


Chiaroscuro Episode 3:  The Butterfly

by ThatSameSong



Series: Chiaroscuro (Life is Strange AU) [3]
Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bisexual Female Character, Budding Love, F/F, Female Friendship, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Gen, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Lesbian Character, Male-Female Friendship, Romance, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-04-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:48:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 21,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23433430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatSameSong/pseuds/ThatSameSong
Summary: Episode 3 of "Chiaroscuro".  Previous episodes here:  https://archiveofourown.org/series/1668319Chloe and Max continue their intense investigation into the strange happenings and Chloe's powers.  In the midst of all the craziness, Chloe finds herself making several difficult decisions for the sake of her best friend.  Minor problems, major conflicts, and an unexpected confession challenge Max and Chloe's already fragile relationship.
Relationships: Maxine "Max" Caulfield/Chloe Price
Series: Chiaroscuro (Life is Strange AU) [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1668319
Comments: 1
Kudos: 24





	1. Blackwell Campus at Night

Chloe's phone beeped, startling her awake.

She was slumped over her desk, her arms folded under her head. Chloe jerked up, almost falling backward out of her desk chair. For a split second, she forgot where she was. Shouldn't she be in her bedroom? Shouldn't she be in Seattle with her parents?

Chloe slid her hand up her forehead, smoothing back her bangs. Nope, this definitely wasn't Seattle. Or Kansas. And she was pretty sure yesterday--all of it--had actually happened: the drug dealer, Samantha on that roof, the eclipse.

_Crap._ How was any of that real? It sounded batshit even without Chloe’s time powers. Not even the fact that it happened, but that it all happened _on the same fucking day._ Seriously, was the universe going to give her a break?

Shaking her head, she checked her texts. She'd read through and replied to every single one of Samantha's messages. Too little too late, but it was better than nothing. And Samantha seemed to totally appreciate the gesture, based on the brief conversation they had over text. Chloe was just happy that Samantha was okay. That whole encounter could have gone so bad so fast. Good thing The Amazing Chloe was there to save the day, right?

Chloe groaned. Honestly, she’d gone through that whole thing basically on autopilot. She had no clue what she was even supposed to say. What do you say to someone desperate enough to throw themselves off a roof over a video? Maybe writing on Samantha’s slate and giving her that CD were what actually saved Samantha’s life. Now that Chloe knew time travel was a thing, she really needed to start looking at all the variables and branching paths.

Max had texted her. She wanted to meet Chloe out front. Main campus area in at least twenty minutes.

Chloe pumped her fist. _Fuck yes._ Mad Max to the rescue. So they were really doing this. Chloe's heart was pumping at max speed, but she wasn't spooked. She was just completely jazzed. Blackwell after dark.

She grabbed her phone and her bag. Time for some late night roaming.

Before she left, Chloe shut off her computer. She'd spent the last few hours scouring the world wide web for info about the infamous Vortex Club. Her findings? A massive load of jack-shit. Blackwell's official website had a brief rundown of the history, but it was too vague to be helpful. So she broadened her search. But someone must have scrubbed any mention of the Vortex Club off the Internet, because Chloe found zilch.

Juliet's article from the Blackwell _Totem_ offered a more balanced perspective. Apparently the Vortex Club wasn't always an elitist shit pit for football bros and rich asshats to get wasted. It used to be a safe haven for nerds and social rejects, a place for the outcasts. But times changed and now the bullies were running the show. The irony was heartbreaking. But there had to be more. There was _always_ more. And Chloe was about to find it.

She went out into the hallway with her phone. Of course she could barely see two inches in front of her face. Middle of the night. Blackwell was sleeping, or at least it was supposed to be.

Chloe turned on her phone's flashlight. Okay, maybe she _was_ a little spooked. All this stuff about possible cults and drugging girls and Rachel Amber. Maybe this wasn't the best time to be on campus at night. But Chloe didn't have a choice. Max was waiting for her, probably even more freaked out than she was about roaming Blackwell after midnight.

She sprinted across the hallway. The door to Dana's room was open a crack. Chloe almost wanted to go inside and see if Dana was okay. Probably not. None of them were okay. But Dana was probably being comforted by Trevor or Justin or Logan or whatever skater or football bro she was hooking up with. Chloe didn't want to intrude.

She stopped in front of Samantha's door. There was police tape all over it. A few people had written encouraging messages on Samantha's slate: _"Get well soon!" "We'll wait for you!" "I'll pray for you!" "Blackwell is with you!"_ Chloe almost puked at the level of hypocrisy. _Seriously, assholes?_ Where the fuck was all this support when Samantha was going through hell?

Chloe pulled out her marker and scrawled her own message on the slate. There was barely any room, but she managed to squeeze in a short message: _"You will get justice. F the Vortex Club"._ Blackwell could eat a dick.

She left the dormitory, letting the front doors swing shut behind her.

Blackwell was kind of pretty at night. Everything was so calm. No football players tossing the ball back and forth, no Steph and Mikey playing card games on the lawn, no Alyssa, no Victoria and her mean girl squad. No drama, just the moon and stars.

She started walking to the main campus area. Who was even out here this late? Probably no one. Everyone was holed up in their rooms trying to drinking the sad away. _Hypocrites._ Chloe seriously wanted to punk Blackwell. For Samantha. But why bother? If she was lucky, this whole place—and most of this stupid town—was getting demolished by the end of the week. After what happened to Samantha, Chloe wanted to take Blackwell apart brick by brick.

Chloe stopped in her tracks when she heard mumbling. She ducked out of sight, her heart pounding loud enough to deafen her. Okay, scratch that. Someone _was_ out on campus this late. _What t_ _he hell?_

It was Principal Wells. He sounded like he was in bad shape. He was just pulling at the door handle and mumbling to himself. Chloe was pretty sure he was totally wasted. If this had been any other night, Chloe would have laughed her ass off. But Chloe couldn't blame the guy for being emotionally wrecked and trying to find himself at the bottom of a bottle. Chloe really wanted to drink herself stupid after all this was over.

She tried to sneak past, but even the great Chloe Price wasn’t sneaky enough to just stealth her way across an open area with the principal right there. He spotted her almost immediately. Clearly not drunk enough.

“Chloe?” Wells said.

He squinted at her. No sign of a bottle, but Chloe didn’t need confirmation. There was zero chance Wells wasn’t completely drunk. Chloe thought she could smell the booze on him. Wells must have dug into his stash. If only he’d been this freaked out a few days ago when Samantha needed help.

Chloe didn’t even try to engage with him. She just held up her hand and used her rewind. Chloe was surprised it actually worked. So her powers were definitely back. No headaches, no nosebleeds. _Awesome._ Blackwell needed its superhero.

She darted past while the principal’s back was turned. He didn’t even see her.

* * *

Chloe continued to the main campus area. Other than Principal Wells, the place seemed totally dead. Everyone was still reeling from seeing Samantha on that roof.

Chloe rolled her eyes. Except Nathan. Nathan was probably in his room getting high without a care in the world. Chloe was regretting not speaking up when she had the chance. Maybe she could have gotten him suspended. It was less than he deserved, but at least it would have been a start. Chloe just wanted that creep off campus for a while.

Max was leaning against a tree with her arms folded. Chloe toyed with the idea of sneaking up on her, but that would have been an asshole move. Chloe didn't know why the thought even crossed her mind. Maybe she just wanted something normal after yesterday being completely bonkers.

She raised a hand as she approached.

"Yo," she said.

Max raised her own hand in greeting. It was hard to tell if she'd been crying, but her voice had a heaviness to it.

"How are you doing?" said Max.

Chloe grimaced. Did they really have to get all touchy-feely? The night was young. They had plenty of time to complain about life and get all of that emotional shit out in the open. Right now they had a mission.

"Bad," said Chloe.

Max reached forward and rubbed Chloe's shoulder.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I know she's your friend. This really sucks."

Understatement of the night. Who could have predicted this was how Chloe would be spending her time at Blackwell? Not her parents. Chloe had been keeping them in the dark, replying to their concerned messages with enough snark to stop them from worrying. Chloe's dad hadn't texted her about the Samantha incident yet, but he was definitely going to be blowing up her phone by the end the day. He probably wanted Chloe to come home.

"I'm not sure she was my friend," said Chloe.

Max gripped Chloe's shoulder.

"Of course she is," said Max. "You saved her. You busted your ass trying to get her off that roof. You're an awesome friend, Chloe."

Chloe stepped backwards out of Max's grip.

"Am I?" she said. "Max, get real. I'm just--just stumbling back and forth through time like an idiot. But I can't fix any of this shit."

Max took Chloe's hands in her own and squeezed them.

"We can," she said. "Together."

Chloe felt her face heating up. She really hoped Max couldn't see that in the darkness. The last thing Chloe needed was another reason for Max to tease her.

"So you got the stuff?" said Chloe.

Max waved the set of keys, a huge grin on her face. Chloe liked this new revolutionary Max. The old Max wouldn't have been up for a little breaking and entering. Well, technically wasn't it just "entering" if they had David's keys?

"And David doesn't know you have them?" said Chloe.

Max shook her head.

"I grabbed them from his little garage workshop," she said. "He lets me work on my camera in there sometimes, so I didn't even have to sneak around."

Chloe yoinked the keys from Max and shoved them into her bag. So there were benefits to keeping the peace with David Dickhead. Mainly an all-access pass to go through his stuff. Chloe couldn’t tell if Max was legitimately manipulating David or if this was just how Max operated. Probably a little bit of both.

"How can you be so _okay_ with that prick?" said Chloe.

She started walking towards the main building, Max following closely behind. Neither of them wanted to get separated on this dark creepy campus.

"He's not a prick to everyone, Chloe," said Max. "My mom really loves him. And he doesn't treat me like some bratty kid."

Chloe snorted. She couldn’t imagine being related to someone like that. Her dad could be overprotective and frustrating sometimes, but that was nothing compared to David and his weird agenda.

"So you're okay with that asshat getting up in your space?" said Chloe. "Be honest, Max."

Max grabbed Chloe's arm to make sure she didn't fall behind.

"Of course I'm not _okay_ okay," she said. "We try to stay out of each others' way. I don't start shit with him and he doesn't start shit with me."

Chloe started to ask how that was possible, what with David being such an asshole. But she got preemptively cut off by the sound of voices. _Fuck._ First Wells, now this? Who else was out this late after curfew? Samuel?

Two people emerged from the main building. Chloe and Max had to duck behind a sign to avoid being seen. Fortunately, they probably weren't spotted. The two people were locked in conversation on the steps. And Chloe recognized them instantly: Victoria Chase and Mark Jefferson. What the hell were they doing out there?

".....all your help," Victoria was saying.

Mr. Jefferson nodded and smiled at her.

"It was the least I could do," he said. "I'm sure its been a tough day for you."

Victoria reached up and flicked a tear out of her eye. If Chloe didn't know any better, she would have assumed Victoria was crying for real. For a split second, she actually thought Vic might feel remorse for being a complete piece of trash. But then Chloe remembered who she was looking at. Victoria? Remorse? _Keep dreaming, Price. The devil wears_ _cashmere._

Apparently Vicky was a better actor than Chloe gave her credit for, because Mr. Jefferson totally fell for it. He gave her a slight sympathetic nod and a smile. Chloe was legitimately grossed out. How could anyone fall for Victoria's bullshit?

"Were you and Samantha close?" said Jefferson.

Victoria shook her head.

"Oh, no," she said. "We weren't really _friends._ But that doesn't really matter now, does it? Samantha needs all the support she can get."

Chloe rolled her eyes. _Ugh._ Could Victoria Chase be any more fake? Scoring points with the teacher by pretending she gave a rat’s ass. Classic Victoria.

"Oh, blow me," Chloe whispered.

Max poked Chloe's shoulder.

"Be quiet," she said.

Mr. Jefferson said something Chloe and Max didn't catch. Whatever it was, it prompted Victoria to nod and wipe away another fake tear.

"Thanks for helping me with my portfolio," said Victoria. "Seriously, it means a _lot."_

Mr. Jefferson folded his arms.

"The Zeitgeist," he said. "You're very bold, Victoria. I wish you the best."

Chloe frowned. Zeitgeist? As in the Zeitgeist Gallery in San Francisco? How did she know that name? Chloe wracked her brains for a minute before she remembered. The Zeitgeist was doing some yearly showing of amateur art. Only the best of the best.

"Oh, I don't need luck," Victoria was saying.

She gently touched Mr. Jefferson's arm.

"You know, I bet you still have a lot of pull over there," said Victoria.

Mr. Jefferson let out a nervous laugh. He stepped away from Victoria, pulling his arm out of her grip. In the moonlight, they almost looked the part: the uptight artist couple. But Mr. Jefferson was way out of Victoria's league and she probably secretly realized that.

"Not really, no," said Jefferson. "That was a long time ago."

Victoria moved closer to him. She was smart this time. Kept her hands to herself, although she did flash him a big flirty smile. Just in case Jefferson somehow didn't realize what she was hinting at.

"Still, I'm sure they'd listen to you," said Victoria. "You'd just have to give them a little nudge in the right direction. It shouldn't be too hard. You already love my work."

She reached out and touched Mr. Jefferson's chest.

"No one has to know," said Victoria.

Mr. Jefferson brushed Victoria's hand away. He looked as uncomfortable as Max and Chloe felt.

"I'm afraid that won't be necessary, Ms. Chase," said Jefferson. "And as a favor to your future career, I'm going to pretend this conversation never happened. Understand?"

Victoria's face fell in disbelief. It was the best thing Chloe had seen all night.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" said Victoria.

Mr. Jefferson was already leaving. He headed down the steps, walked across campus, and disappeared into the path leading to the parking lot. Mr. Jefferson must have stayed late just to help Victoria. He was probably regretting that now.

Victoria went back to her dorm. She didn't see Max and Chloe as she left. Victoria was too busy muttering to herself about how her brilliant plan had failed. Chloe would have felt bad for Victoria's deflated ego if Victoria hadn't been completely evil.

"Take that, skank," said Chloe.

Max gently smacked Chloe's arm.

"Jesus, Chloe," she said. "You have to be quiet."

Chloe shut her mouth, but she was grinning like a little kid. She was definitely committing this entire moment to memory. Maybe if she got extra brave, she could bring it up the next time Victoria tried to give her shit.

Chloe grabbed Max by the wrist and led her to the front doors. Now that Victoria and Jefferson had bailed for the night, she was starting to get more confident. There couldn’t possibly be anyone else on campus, right? No one else had a reason to be wandering around like a creep. Except maybe Samuel, but Chloe doubted that guy was going to bust them.

She shoved the key into the lock and twisted it. Chloe had a brief moment of panic, wondering if maybe Max had grabbed the wrong keys or something. What was going to happen if David noticed his keys missing? Was the guy going to freak out on them? Was Max going to be safe if David found out what she did?

Chloe swallowed. _Fuck._ She didn’t want to think David was that level of dickhead, but she just didn’t know. And she was pretty sure Max wasn’t going to tell her. If it could put Chloe in danger, Max was keeping it to herself. So if this was the wrong set of keys, if Max had messed up and they were totally boned….

But Chloe twisted again and the lock clicked. They were in.

"Belly of the beast," said Chloe.

She stepped into Blackwell, leading Max by the wrist. The hallways looked surprisingly familiar. Posters advertising that dumb Vortex Club "End of the World" shindig, anti-bullying and gun-free zone posters all over the walls, flyers and papers all over the notice board, the faint glow of the vending machines.

First things first: the principal's office. They could fuck around and get caught after they grabbed the info they needed. Chloe didn't really want to snoop through Ms. Holt’s classroom after hours. There would be other nights for illicit science experiments.

Chloe unlocked the door to the principal's office and darted inside. Max followed at a slower pace, looking around like she expected them to get busted. Chloe didn't get why Max was so paranoid. It was just Blackwell after dark. There weren't even any security cameras. Apparently David's push to turn Blackwell into a high-security prison wasn't working. Probably thanks to Mark Jefferson and Ashley Holt.

"Almost there," said Chloe.

She checked the ring of keys, her frown growing as she read off each label. There was one for the janitor's little room and pretty much every place at Blackwell. Every place that wasn't the principal's office. _Dammit._

"What the fuck?" said Chloe. "Did you not grab the key, Max?"

Max took the ring from Chloe and examined each label.

"I thought it was here," she said. "David should have it, right? I mean, it's the principal's office."

Chloe slammed her fist against the locked door. She grabbed the handle and jiggled it, but of course it wouldn't open. She should have seen this coming. Principal Wells had stuff to hide just like everyone else at Blackwell.

"Okay, we can work with this," said Chloe. "Just need my thief skill."

She squatted by the door and pulled out her lock-picking stuff. Chloe always knew carrying those things on her would come in handy. She'd just assumed it would be for something more badass than breaking into the principal's office.

Max folded her arms and raised an eyebrow.

"You can pick locks?" she said.

Chloe grunted.

"You're not the only one who hangs out with scumbags, Caulfield," said Chloe.

Max shuddered.

"Ew," she said. "I didn't _hang out_ with Damon. Or Frank. Gross."

She started looking for the key, just in case Chloe's DIY lock-picking skills didn't pay off. Not that she didn't trust Chloe. Looking for a key was the least Max could contribute to their crime spree. Well, not a crime spree yet. The night was still young.

"Hey Chloe," said Max. "I know this is, uh, mega-lame. And not the time. But I was wondering if you, um..."

She yanked open a drawer and shut it quickly. No key. And Max was making way more noise than Chloe for a change.

"I thought it would be cool if we...went to that ape movie marathon thing," said Max. "I-I don't really have any other friends who'd like to go, and...it sounds fun."

Chloe smiled to herself. Yeah, it did sound fun. But only if she could do it with Max. Watching a bunch of old ape movies at a drive-in? Boring. Watching a bunch of old ape movies at a drive-in while cracking jokes and watching Max hog the popcorn? Living the dream.

"You're on, Max," said Chloe. "With snacks courtesy of Chloe Elizabeth Price."

Max let out a sigh of relief.

"Thank god," she said. "I really thought that wasn't going to be your thing."

Chloe just nodded. It actually wasn't her thing, but they were both going to need to de-stress after this week was over. _Focus up, Price. One thing at a time._

"Speaking of stuff that's not my thing," said Chloe. "The Zeitgeist."

Max checked the key rack. Tons of keys, but none of them were for the principal's office.

"Uh huh?" said Max.

Chloe twisted her tools around. _Ugh._ Lock-picking always looked so easy in the movies. But she was a little out of practice. Chloe only did it once--to impress a girl--and it took her about thirty minutes.

"Aren't they doing some, uh, contest thing?" said Chloe. "Sounds like something you’d be into."

Max grabbed a hat off the rack and turned it over. Unsurprisingly, Wells hadn't hidden the key to his office in there.

"Sorry," she said. "I've been a little busy feeling like total shit."

_Ouch._ Chloe felt that like a punch in the gut. She knew it wasn't all her fault. Max's dad dying was a huge part of it. But Chloe left when Max needed her most and cut contact when Max desperately needed someone to vent to.

"Hey, you still have time, okay?" said Chloe. "Just--just enter your photos. See what happens. I'll back you."

Max folded her arms.

"I don't need you to back me," she said. "I need you to be here when I need you."

Chloe snorted. She could almost smell the repressed emotions. How long had Max been waiting to say that? _Fuck._ _Why were they doing this now? Why were they doing this_ _ _again?__ _It was like an endless cycle of bullshit. But that wasn’t the kind of thing either of them could just let go._

"Gee, Max," said Chloe. "Too bad I can't rewind that far. Guess you're stuck with the Fuck-Up Chloe Price timeline. Sorry if that sucks for you."

She turned back to the door. That wasn't fair and she knew it, but it felt good to say it.

"Just enter the stupid contest," said Chloe. "You're a good artist, Max. Your photos are going to change the world. I can tell. They already changed you."

She stood up and backed away from the door. Chloe slipped her little tools back into her bag.

"So I suck at lock-picking," said Chloe. "But it's cool. I've already got a Plan B."

She grabbed a notebook from her bag, found a page that wasn't covered in scientific equations, and scrawled some basic instructions. Chloe was actually kind of glad the lock-picking plan didn't work out. Plan B was way cooler. It was something Chloe had been itching to try. No time like the present.

She handed the instructions to Max.

"We need these things," she said.

Max read off the list, her brow furrowed in confusion. Sugar, hydrochloric acid, and a can.

"Okay, and this is...?" said Max.

Chloe smiled nervously. Max wasn't going to like this. But did they have a choice? And if Chloe played her cards right, this was the easiest way to get into the office without getting in trouble.

"A bomb," said Chloe. "A small one. Big enough to blow the lock, but not, like, us."

Max shoved the paper back into Chloe's hands.

"No fucking way," she said. "We can't--you can't--a _bomb,_ Chloe? Are you high?"

Chloe tucked the paper into her bag. She already knew where to get the hydrochloric acid: Ms. Holt’s room. Chloe hadn't been planning to break into the science lab after hours, but she also hadn't been planning to make a bomb.

"It'll be fine," said Chloe. "I've done this before. Well, I've done stuff with hydrochloric acid before. I'm a scientist, Max. Trust me. I wouldn't do this if I wasn't a hundred percent sure we were going to be safe."

Max chewed her lip. Was Chloe insane enough to risk their lives just to get into the principal's office? Probably. Was Max insane enough to go along with it? Definitely.

"Okay," said Max. "You promise?"

Chloe patted Max's shoulder.

"I'm never letting you down again," said Chloe. "And I'm, um, sorry for being such a drama queen."

Max surprised Chloe by giving her a hug.

"Me too," said Max. "We're both being kind of shitty to each other, huh? Must be because we're on edge."

Chloe returned the hug, even though she didn't believe Max's explanation. They were being kind of shitty to each other before any of this went down.


	2. The Pool

Max was too chicken-shit to split up, so they went hunting for the ingredients together.

They scored a can from a vending machine--Max's idea--and they headed to Mr. Jefferson's office in search of duct tape. They could have widened their search to the school grounds, but Chloe didn't want to just leave the building in the middle of their operation.

The second they were in Jefferson's room, Max started nerding out over all the high tech photo equipment. Even Chloe had to admit that Mr. Jefferson's set-up was pretty nice. How much did all this high-tech stuff cost? A million dollars?

“Down, Max,” said Chloe.

Chloe nabbed a roll of duct tape from Jefferson's desk. Now all they needed was the hydrochloric acid.

Max backed away from the high tech camera she was examining. She was probably regretting leaving Blackwell before Mark Jefferson rolled into town.

“Would be awesome if we were going to school together,” said Max.

Chloe nodded. That _did_ sound awesome. She’d only thought about it, what? A dozen times since she came back? Chloe pictured herself hanging out with Max on campus. Playing tabletop games with Steph and Mikey. Pissing off Principal Wells. Taking over the school. Who wouldn’t want that?

It was something Chloe could have had if she stuck around. Stuff she could have had if she’d kept in contact with her best friend. But Chloe couldn’t know any of that. She could picture all those branching paths in her head, but it was all just random speculation and wishful thinking. Chloe had zero evidence to support her hypothesis that things would have been different if her dad hadn’t gotten that job or if Ryan Caulfield hadn’t died.

Who knew? Maybe some things were just _inevitable._ Maybe Chloe wasn’t making any difference with her powers because the timeline was already set. Of course it _was_ already set, because that was how timelines worked. But if everything was pre-destined, was Chloe even doing anything right or wrong? Thinking about it gave Chloe a headache.

They headed to the science lab.

Just like the rest of Blackwell, the lab was creepy at night. Rows of work stations, the quiet hum of the fish tank, that huge cabinet filled with chemicals. It was like something out of a horror movie. Chloe felt spooked.

Max wandered over to the fish tank.

"So where's this hydro-what-the-fuck?" said Max.

Chloe was already dragging a chair over to the cabinet.

"It's actually weed killer," said Chloe. "I remember seeing a box up there the last time Ms. Holt asked me to get something for her."

She hopped onto the chair and reached for the box. Chloe could have reached it without the chair, but that would have been dumb. They needed to be smart and they needed to be fast.

Chloe grabbed the box and jumped off the chair. She slipped the box into her bag alongside the sugar, duct tape, and soda can. Time to head out. Chloe had high hopes for this plan. Mostly because she finally got to blow stuff up. Wasn't that what science was really about?

Her and Max went back to the principal's office.

"You sure this is going to work?" said Max.

Chloe was setting up the bomb. It would have gone faster if Max helped, but of course Max didn't want to get involved. Fair enough. Chloe knew what she was doing.

"I can always rewind," she said.

Max was standing at a safe distance, her arms folded as she chewed her lip.

"Not if we blow up," she said.

Chloe sighed. Yeah, she’d thought about that. That was the one huge setback of her rewind: couldn’t use it if she was in pieces or Damon fucking Merrick blew out the back of her skull. Chloe was so glad they hadn’t run into that asshole since the junkyard. Having a scary loser like that on their backs was actually a little freaky.

"We're not gonna blow up," said Chloe. "Have some faith, Mad Max."

She stood up and admired her work. It looked, well, like an improvised bomb made by two inexperienced teens. But despite the shitty craftsmanship, it looked pretty functional. And probably the coolest thing Chloe had ever used her big science brain for. This was so much cooler than setting off homemade fireworks in Chloe’s bedroom.

"This is so awesome," she said.

She pulled out her lighter. Chloe couldn't decide if Ms. Holt would have been proud or horrified. Probably a lethal mix of both. Ms. Holt always said Chloe had a lot of potential.

"Get ready to haul ass," said Max.

Chloe lit the fuse. She slipped the lighter back into her bag and darted away. She sprinted out of blast range and dove behind a table with Max.

She grabbed Max's hand and squeezed it, counting down the seconds as her heart pounded like crazy. On the off chance they actually _did_ blow up, Chloe was just glad Max was with her. She couldn't have done this alone. No one else would have been so cool and supportive about breaking into the school.

Chloe shut her eyes as the bomb went off. It wasn't as loud as she imagined, but anyone passing outside would have definitely heard something. And just as Chloe planned, that little explosion blew the lock right off. Mission accomplished.

A moment later, the alarm started blaring. Even if no one heard the bomb go off, half the campus was probably going to hear that alarm. Someone was going to call the cops and the fire department. Which meant Max and Chloe were screwed.

"Oh shit," said Max. "What are we gonna do?"

Chloe touched Max's arm. She stood up, her ears already starting to ring from the alarm.

"I got this," she said.

Chloe sprinted into the principal's office through the now unlocked door. She could hear Max frantically running around, probably trying to figure out how to shut off the alarm. Not that it would have mattered. Someone was probably on their way to check it out and bust them. They needed time.

Fortunately, Chloe _had_ time. All of the time in the world.

Standing in the middle of the office, Chloe hit redo. She didn't even have to go back too far. Just before she actually set up the bomb. Well, before the _other_ Chloe set up the bomb. The real Chloe was in the office fixing things. Traveling through time got more and more complicated the longer Chloe did it. And it was a lot messier than movies and TV made it out to be.

"Chloe?" said Max. "What the fuck?"

From her point of view, Chloe had just disappeared. One minute Chloe was pulling stuff out of her bag, the next minute she just wasn't there. Chloe had never thought about how weird her rewind must have looked from the outside. Chloe still didn’t understand how the time stream—or whatever it was called—readjusted itself to account for two Chloes existing within the same second. Shouldn’t that have caused an unresolveable paradox? Even if Chloe erased her other self with the rewind, there was still a very brief second in which there were two of her occupying the same space. Chloe’s rewind made less scientific sense the more she thought about it.

Chloe unlocked the door and shoved it open. She had a big grin on her face.

"Boo-yah," she said. "Mischief managed.”

Max stepped into the office and Chloe closed the door behind her.

"You're the bomb, Chloe," said Max.

Chloe rolled her eyes at the pun. Like she didn't already know she was awesome. But she liked having Max point it out. Every Batman needed a Robin.

"So, uh, what are we looking for again?" said Max.

Chloe flipped on the lamp. Wells' office looked even more tacky and over-decorated at night. But of course the principal of Blackwell had to keep up appearances. Those rich parents weren't going to crack open their enormous wallets unless Wells had an ugly bronze bird on his desk.

"Anything?" said Chloe. "Everything? Just grab anything that looks like it can help us. Rachel's file maybe?"

She hopped into the desk chair and swiveled around. Chloe grinned. Okay, it was ugly as fuck, but that chair was really comfy.

Wells' computer was unlocked. No password. For a guy who ran one of the most elite schools in the country, he was really sloppy about personal security. _Perfect._

There were some tabs open on the web browser. Mostly boring principal stuff, like grades and a list of students on financial aid. Chloe sped past those without looking. She didn't give a shit if Victoria Chase was failing chemistry.

Chloe read through an e-mail from Sean Prescott to Principal Wells. Mr. Prescott was apparently pissed that Wells was considering gutting the latest Vortex Club party because of Samantha. Mr. Prescott said it was "very important to the spirit of Blackwell", whatever the hell that meant. So Sean Prescott also didn't give a shit about Samantha and he was a bully. _Shocking._

Chloe thought she was starting to get why Mr. Prescott cared so much about the Vortex Club. It was all about Nathan. But why was Sean Prescott so invested in this party in particular? What was with all the veiled threats? What was the big deal about some stupid End of the World party?

Chloe swallowed. _End of the World._ That was just a name, right? Just something dumb and over-dramatic that Victoria and her minions came up with? It couldn't have anything to do with the storm or any of the insane shit happening in Arcadia Bay.

But what if it did? What if it was all connected? Everything, even the stuff that couldn't possibly be a part of it?

She searched Wells' inbox. There were more e-mails from Sean Prescott, but most of them were just standard stuff: money, fundraising, Nathan. Nothing about the party. Sean Prescott did mention that Nathan "might need some special attention in class", but Chloe didn't know what that meant. Did Sean Prescott know his son was psycho?

Chloe plugged in the flash drive she brought. Now it was time for some real snooping.

Wells had a copy of Nathan's file right on the desktop. It was exactly what Chloe expected: violent outbursts, screaming at teachers, trying to steal school property. And the principal was pissed at _Chloe_ for a little graffiti? If anyone deserved to get expelled, it was Nathan. Nathan was clearly psychotic. The more Chloe read, the more she thought Nathan needed some serious therapy.

According to the file, Nathan had--among various other infractions--tried to steal the Tobanga totem. Chloe didn't really get that one. It seemed weirdly out of character for Nathan.

Chloe did know a little about the Tobanga from Ms. Holt. No one really knew where it came from. Why would Nathan want to steal something like that? And what was he even planning to do with it?

Chloe copied Nathan's file over to the flash drive. She didn't know when she'd need it, but she wanted to have it.

But there was more than just Nathan's rap sheet.

"Hey Max, come look at this," she said.

Chloe already had the file open by the time Max made it around the desk. She'd noticed it before, but she was too invested in Nathan's long list of infractions. At first she thought it was some weird drawing that got bundled with Nathan's file for some reason. But there had to be a reason it was in there, right? It had to be important.

"What the hell?" said Max.

Chloe squinted. Those weren't just random lines and squiggles. Those were words. _Rachel in the dark room. Rachel in the dark room._ Over and over.

A shiver skittered up Chloe's spine. _What the fuck?_ She knew Nathan was messed up, but this was just every kind of creepy. What did it even mean?

"Dark room?" said Chloe. "Like photos?"

That made sense if Rachel wanted to be a model. But Chloe doubted that was the point of this weird drawing.

_Cult._ There was that word again. Chloe didn't know how else to describe what she was seeing. Creepy drawings, trying to steal the Tobanga statue, this End of the World party. It all felt so cult-ish, like the Vortex Club knew something. Like _Nathan_ knew something. But what was it that Nathan and his dad knew? And what did it have to do with a massive tornado or Chloe's rewind?

"Did you find anything?" said Chloe.

Max tore her eyes away from the drawing. She must have been more freaked out than Chloe, but she was playing it cool.

"Uh, I got Rachel's file," said Max.

She held it up and waved it.

Chloe leaned back in her chair and grabbed the armrests. Her and Max were such good detectives. What would Arcadia Bay do without them?

"Awesome," she said. "Take some pictures and we'll get out of here."

Max snapped some pictures with her phone. She would have loved to take the file with her, but they couldn't risk leaving a trace. If Wells realized someone had been in his office, he'd probably be on high alert.

While Max was taking photos, Chloe wandered over to the little cabinet next to the bookcase. She expected it to be locked, but she was able to nudge it open with her foot. It was already open a crack. Apparently Principal Wells had been in a hurry.

Chloe found an opened bottle of booze and a bunch of fancy glasses. She eyed the bottle. On a scale of one to ten, how pissed would Max be if she just snatched it? Probably eleven. Stealing alcohol wasn't really on the agenda.

But they kind of deserved it. This week had been totally bonkers. Didn't the saviors of Arcadia Bay deserve a break? Didn't they deserve some fun?

Chloe grabbed the bottle and nudged the cabinet closed. She straightened up, holding the bottle over her head and grinning. Chloe turned to Max and shook the bottle.

"Party time," she said.

Max sprang across the room, snatching the booze out of Chloe's hand.

"Are you high?" she said. "He'll know we were in here."

Chloe grabbed the bottle back. She rolled her eyes, holding the bottle to her chest.

"No, he'll know _someone_ was in here," said Chloe. "You didn't see him, Max. He was totally wasted. He'll probably think he drank the whole bottle and forgot."

Max stepped back. She spread her arms appealingly, trying to talk some sense into Chloe. She shouldn't have bothered. Chloe had been listening to her gut way too much lately. Chloe needed to remind herself that she was still wild and Max wasn't getting in the way of that.

"If he finds out we were in here, we're fucked," said Max. "He already doesn't trust you. What if he finds out what we're doing? What if he tells your parents? Or David?"

Chloe shrugged.

"Then David will be on my ass a little more," she said. "Who the fuck cares? Come on, Mad Max. Let your inner punk flag fly."

Max bit her lip. Stealing booze was actually the least criminal thing they'd done that night. It was nothing compared to breaking into the school, making a fucking bomb, or taking pictures of confidential student information. If they got busted for any of that, Principal Wells wasn't going to care about the booze.

"Okay," said Max. "But never again. Do you hear me, Chloe? This is the last time."

Chloe popped the cap on the bottle.

"Yes, sir," she said.

She took a long swig. Chloe always thought the first time she tried alcohol for real would be exciting. She never expected it to be a victory drink after breaking into Blackwell. That sounded like a punchline.

Chloe almost gagged on the taste. It wasn't any better than the wine. In fact, it was way worse. Chloe shouldn't have chugged it like that.

Max grabbed the bottle from her and took her own swig. Max lowered the bottle and shuddered, almost recoiling from the taste. It tasted really cheap. Apparently Principal Wells wasn't splurging on luxury booze.

"Whoa," said Chloe. "I'm already buzzed."

Max gave Chloe a playful shove.

"You're so full of shit," she said.

She returned the bottle to the cabinet. If they didn't have to leave a trace, they weren't going to.

Max and Chloe left the office and walked out into the hallway. It was still late at night. Enough time for Max to head back home and be in bed before David even realized she was gone. Max didn't usually stay out like this without at least telling her mom first.

Chloe held up the ring of keys and shook it. The keys jangled against each other like wind chimes.

"Wanna hit the pool?" she said. "Go see some sharks?"

Max shut the door to the office behind them.

"I'm going home," she said.

Chloe grabbed Max's wrist to stop her.

"Come on," she said. "We're buzzed, we have everything we need, and we're this close to finding Rachel. Don't you want to relax before things start spinning out of control again?"

Max considered. They did sort of deserve a night off.

"Splish splash," said Max.

Chloe grinned.

"Splish splash," she said.

* * *

They headed to the pool. Blackwell had screwed Chloe over so badly. It felt good to be turning the tables. Wandering the halls at night was so….magical. Chloe needed to make a copy of those keys if she ever got a chance. Chloe could use more nights like this.

They went into the girls' locker room together. Chloe went to hit the lights while Max waited by the pool.

More than anything else, Chloe wanted this to be a fun night for Max. They'd been hanging out so much and they'd never really gotten the chance to have any real fun. Some asshole was always barging in to interrupt their good time, like David or that Damon guy. Now Chloe had the chance to make up for all of that. To remind Max of the good old days before Blackwell and time powers and Seattle.

Chloe turned on the lights. Unlike the rest of Blackwell, the pool was actually beautiful at night. The water looked so mystical and otherworldly.

Max stripped down to her underwear and jumped in.

Chloe followed suit, pulling off her hoodie, shirt, pants, and shoes. She tossed them into a pile and cannonballed into the pool. She had a split second of shock as the water hit her bare skin, but she recovered quickly and surfaced.

"See?" said Chloe. "I did say you'd love it."

Max floated on the surface, her arms splayed out. She laughed.

"I think I'm buzzed," she said.

Chloe gave Max a playful nudge. She floated next to Max, her arms out and her legs idly kicking at the water. Everything around them seemed to be caught in a blue glow. Chloe knew it was just the light, but it didn't look natural. It was like she was floating in a weird dreamscape.

"You're such a punk," said Chloe.

Max chuckled. Growing up, her and Chloe were always on totally different ends of the rebel spectrum: Chloe was always the one getting into trouble and Max was the one scared of getting busted. Now it was like Chloe was finally rubbing off on Max. And not in the good way. Even though Max was having the time of her life, she didn’t want to think about how David or her mom would have reacted if they knew. It was hard not to think about consequences.

"Thanks, girlfriend," Max said.

She stared at the ceiling. Consequences or not, this was a beautiful scene. Max wished she had her camera. Mark Jefferson would have gone nuts over a shot like this.

"So what do you think this is?" she said. "Is it, like, magic? Or is it science? Or both?"

Chloe batted at the water like a cat.

"I have no clue," said Chloe. "Can we not talk about it? Please?"

Max hesitated. The last thing she wanted was another fight.

"I know," she said. "But it's just...your rewind. And the storm. It's--it almost feels like Arcadia Bay is trying to tell us something."

That was what Chloe had been thinking, but it sounded too insane to say out loud. Between her tornado vision and her rewind, it really did feel like the world was ending. Even the Tobanga felt like part of everything.

"It's connected," said Chloe. "Everything. I just don't know how or why. Reality is like a—like a pearl. I don’t know.”

She closed her eyes.

"Rachel Amber is the key," said Chloe. "She's at the center of this. We find her and it all starts making sense. I hope."

She swam to the edge of the pool. Chloe propped up her arms over the side and rested her chin on them.

"But enough about that," said Chloe. "I want to hear about what Max Caulfield has been up to since I've been gone. Let me guess: fending off Arcadia Bay bros with a stick?"

Max followed Chloe to the edge of the pool. She blushed at Chloe's question.

"As if," she said. "The guys around here don't even know I exist. Well, most of them. I told you about Warren, right?"

Chloe thought for a minute.

"Um, maybe?" she said. "Guess it didn't work out?"

Max smiled.

"I think we were too alike," she said. "He was totally into me and I felt like I had to be into him too, you know? But it got too intense and we had to break up.”

Chloe grinned.

"His loss," she said.

Max nodded, but she didn't look convinced. Warren had been her first serious relationship. And like most teenagers, she thought they'd be together at least until after graduation. But it just didn't work out.

"This was before I knew I was bi," said Max.

Chloe tilted her head. She didn’t remember ever having the “I’m gay” talk with her parents. She was pretty sure her mom was already in the loop and her dad was waiting for verbal confirmation before he said anything.

"So who else knows?" said Chloe.

Max squinted into the distance for a few seconds.

"Just you, girlfriend," she said. "And Rachel. _God._ This is all so new to me. I'm so used to being boring old Max, you know?"

Chloe playfully nudged Max's shoulder.

"Hey," she said. "You're not _boring,_ Caulfield. You're awesome."

Max blushed, nervously chewing on her bottom lip. She hadn't really felt boring in a super long time. Chloe had given her the kind of excitement and purpose she desperately needed in her life.

"Okay, let's say this is destiny," said Chloe. "Was it _destiny_ that Samantha almost threw herself off a fucking roof? What about Nathan shooting you in the bathroom? Am I just--am I just messing with time for no reason?"

Max poked Chloe's shoulder.

"You weren't "messing around" when you saved me, Chloe," she said. "And what happened to Samantha has nothing to do with any of this. It was just Blackwell bullshit."

Chloe bit her lip. _But was it?_ If everything actually was connected, if every little thing was centered around Rachel, Samantha's stuff was probably part of that. Nathan was a key player in all of this. Why not toss Samantha in the mix and cover every single base?

"You don't think Rachel went to a Vortex Club party?" said Chloe.

The thought just popped into her head. Yeah, it made too much sense. Popular girl, attractive, probably flirty. Maybe Rachel didn't chug the Vortex juice, but she definitely got invited to some parties. She was exactly the kind of person the Vortex Club would have courted.

Max let out a small sigh.

"Probably," she said. "She had Blackwell hicks all over her. But she never hooked up with Nathan.”

But she sounded uncertain, like she actually _did_ think Rachel hooked up with Nathan. She liked to think Rachel had taste, but Rachel was also a wild card. Wild enough to get involved with pretty much any guy. But Nathan? Nathan _Prescott?_ That would have been insane, even for Rachel.

Chloe voiced Max's doubts.

"Okay, but how do you know?" she said.

Max furrowed her brow. As a rule, she tried not to think about the people Rachel had slept with. It was part of the terms of their relationship, an unspoken rule. Max couldn't say she was entirely into it, but she also knew tying Rachel down would just push her away. You couldn't cage a forest fire.

"There _was_ this big party right before she disappeared," said Max. "But I can't see her partying with Nathan. It just wasn't her, Chloe. She was too much like--like you."

Chloe raised her eyebrows. Was Max seriously comparing her to total knock-out Rachel Amber? _What the fuck?_ Had Max _seen_ Rachel?

"I wish,” said Chloe. “Wish I could be half as cool as Rachel. Or you. I’m just some girl with time powers. No biggie.”

Max rubbed Chloe’s shoulder.

“Yeah, so boring,” said Max. “ _God,_ Chloe. Get over yourself. You’re amazing.”

Chloe nodded absently. She was still stuck on the idea that Rachel went to the party. She was convinced Rachel had been there. And something had happened to her. Something bad.

"I'm pruning," said Max.

And that was their cue to ditch the pool, even though Chloe wanted to splash around for a few more minutes.

Her and Chloe climbed out of the pool. They dried off and put their clothes back on. They both reeked like chlorine, but they couldn't really do anything about that. And the smell was totally worth it. Taking over the Blackwell pool for the night felt so fucking good. Provided they didn't get busted.

Chloe grabbed her bag and slung it over her shoulder. They did some good work tonight. That had to be at least enough info to give them some better leads. Chloe just wasn't sure what she wanted or needed to find in Rachel's file.

"You wanna crash at my place?" said Max.

Chloe jerked her hand out of her bag. She was going to grab her phone and text Mikey or Steph. She was sitting on another pile of unread texts. After what happened with Samantha, Chloe was never slipping up like that again.

"At least buy me dinner first," said Chloe.

She shoved her hand into the bag and started feeling around for her phone. Had she left it charging in her room again?

Max rolled her eyes and folded her arms.

"Keep it in your pants, fugitive," said Max. "You really wanna just go back to your room? Can't get busted if you're not here."

Chloe snorted.

"Like David Dickhead isn't gonna bust me anyway," said Chloe. "If you want a sleepover so bad, just say it. We're all adults here. No need to beat around the bush."

She pulled out her phone and checked her messages. It wasn't just Mikey and Steph. At least five people had been texting her almost non-stop. It must have started after Samantha almost jumped. _Barf._ Couldn't they just leave her alone? Chloe really didn't deserve all this attention. As if anyone gave a shit about her before what happened on that roof.

"Come on," said Max. "Don't you want to stay over at my house? It'll be just like when we were tweens. Except we might actually get arrested."

Chloe shoved the phone back into her bag. _Fuck it._ _She could reply later. This was Max Time._

"Who could resist?" said Chloe.

She raised both of her hands in surrender.

"You win, Maximus," she said. "Show me the way to our super secret hideout."

A night off from Blackwell sounded awesome. And it was probably a requirement for a sound mind. Chloe wouldn't be getting any sleep in her dorm room for a while. Too many ghosts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Controversial opinion: I actually kind of like the pool scene from the original game better than the kiss. The kiss was amazing of course, but the pool scene just felt so intimate and it was really the first time I realized that Max and Chloe had a thing for each other.


	3. Max's House

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Headcanon: Chloe definitely listens to lesbian feminist punk bands like The Butchies. "She's So Lovely" by The Butchies is her personal anthem for Max.

Chloe woke up in Max's bed. This wasn't the first time she woke up in a girl's bed after a wild night, but it was the first time Chloe was positive they hadn’t had sex. Not that Chloe was complaining. A night at Max's actually seemed way better than hooking up with a random girl at a party.

She stretched, dragging her hands over her tired eyes. It was weird to wake up feeling so relaxed after the insane night they had.

Chloe could hear the world waking up. Dogs barking, faint voices, lawn mowers. And Chloe could feel the faint heat of the sun on her face before she opened her eyes. Another sunny day in Arcadia. No weird weather or feeling of impending doom. Just another day. That had to be against the rules. How could everything feel so normal when this entire town was getting destroyed in less than a week?

Max was grabbing her camera from the floor next to her bed. She straightened up with the familiar Polaroid camera in her hands. Max lined up the lens, preparing to take her first photo of the day. They needed some visual evidence to prove they were still alive after last night.

Chloe popped her head into the frame.

"Photo bomb!" she said.

Max laughed. This might be one of the best photos she ever took. Perfect lighting, Chloe wearing Max's pajamas. It was so peaceful.

She snapped the picture. That was definitely going on Max's wall. Right next to her best photo of Rachel Amber.

Chloe jumped out of bed and stretched. The last thing she wanted was for Max's step-dick to walk in on them. David would have a bunch of questions, most of which Chloe couldn't answer without snark. And if he asked about last night, Chloe was almost guaranteed to spill.

Chloe smoothed her pajama shirt. Max still wore the same dorky pajamas. They weren't really Chloe's style, but she was eternally grateful. The stench of chlorine probably would have choked Chloe to death in her sleep.

She wrinkled her nose. _Dammit._ Speaking of chlorine, what the heck was she supposed to wear? Her clothes still reeked. And Chloe hadn't thought to hit her dorm room for a fresh pair of clothes before they left Blackwell.

Max grabbed the remote and turned on the hi-fi. The opening strains of “Maps” by Benjamin Francis Leftwich poured from the speakers.

"Hey, can I borrow some clothes?" said Chloe.

Max was still lying in bed, her arms behind her head.

"My closet is your closet," she said.

Chloe let out a relieved sigh. If she was going to butt heads with David, she needed to be dressed for it. Plus this would be the first time Chloe actually talked to Vanessa Caulfield for what felt like decades.

Chloe pulled open the closet. _Holy shit._ Max totally changed her style. Well, almost. Chloe glimpsed a few remnants of the old Max, but there were also some flannel shirts. _Flannel._ What the hell happened to Max?

She rubbed the back of her neck. _You happened to Max, genius._

It wasn't Chloe’s style, but it probably should have been. She actually liked what Max had done with her wardrobe. Time to let her inner punk fly.

Chloe chose a pair of ripped jeans and a black tank top with a rainbow across the front. Topped off with a blue flannel shirt.

She spun around and spread her arms, modeling her new outfit for Max. Now all Chloe needed was a few tats and some hair dye. And maybe a full personality transplant. If Chloe walked into Blackwell dressed like that, there would be questions she couldn't answer.

"Captain Chloe, Rewind Queen of Arcadia Bay," said Chloe.

Max slid off the edge of the bed and stood up. She walked over to the hi-fi and chose another track: _“_ _Yellow is the Color of her Eyes”_ by Soccer Mommy. One of Max's favorite songs of all time. And now that she thought about it, probably Max's first clue that she wasn't straight.

"You look good," said Max.

Chloe rubbed the back of her head and blushed.

"Shit, really?" she said. "It's, um, not really my style. Way too cool."

Max backed away from the hi-fi and turned around. With a reassuring smile on her face, she grabbed both of Chloe's wrists. Her grip was firm. Confident. It made Chloe's heart thump a little faster.

"Chloe, I like your style," said Max. "You're not trying to be cool. You're trying to be _Chloe._ You don't give a fuck what anyone says."

Chloe let out a nervous laugh. She wasn't used to Max being so close to her. Which was ridiculous, because they literally just slept in the same bed. They were kind of past that. But something about the proximity was doing weird things to Chloe's heart. Her throat had almost dried up, but she managed to speak.

"That's me," she said. "Chloe "I-Don't-Give-a-Fuck" Price."

Max let go of Chloe's wrist. Her hand traveled, moving up Chloe's arm, across her shoulder, and finally coming to rest on Chloe's face. She must have felt the heat from Chloe's burning cheeks. She had to feel the blood pumping under Chloe's skin when she touched her.

"Yeah," she said.

And suddenly her face was too close and too warm, her lips slightly parted and her eyes closed. She was pulling Chloe in, her hands cupped around Chloe's face. Chloe could feel Max's breath on her skin. She could hear both of their hearts thumping at max speed.

Chloe stepped back, both hands pressed against her chest.

Max opened her eyes. She blinked, her brow slightly furrowed in confusion. Her hand fell to her side, like she wasn't sure where to put it.

Now that Chloe wasn't so close, her head wasn't swimming anymore. She could finally think straight, could finally wrap her head around the last few seconds. _Holy shit._ Max just tried to...to...kiss her. _Max Caulfie_ _l_ _d just tried to kiss her._ What the fuck? What the fuck? What. The. _Fuck?_

Max swept a strand of messy pixie cut out of her face. Chloe had assumed this new Max was just too lazy to brush her hair. But that wasn't true. This was a style, a deliberate choice. So many things about Max were deliberate.

"Sorry," said Max. "I-I guess I misread that. Stupid Max. Stupid."

She stepped past Chloe and walked over to the closet.

"Better get dressed," she said. "You can head downstairs if you want. I'm sure my mom can't wait to see you. Free breakfast."

Chloe opened her mouth, but nothing came out. She just watched as Max stripped down and grabbed some clothes. This new Max was so comfortable around her. But of course she was. They'd been best friends for a really long time. They'd definitely seen each other naked at least once. Chloe knew every single one of Max's most embarrassing moles.

Chloe grabbed the side of her head. And just when she thought she was getting used to her life being bizarro. Chloe didn't understand what was happening. Chloe had kissed girls before. She’d done way more than just _kiss_ a girl. But Max wasn’t just some random girl Chloe had met in Seattle. Her and Max were _friends._ They'd known each other since they were kids. They used to dare each other to eat bugs and do insane science experiments in Max's room. They had sleepovers and told scary stories in front of the fireplace.

So why did Max try to _kiss her?_ There was no way Max was in love with her or anything like that. They hadn't seen each other in five years.

Chloe would have been lying if she said she hadn't thought about kissing Max. Back when she was still coming to terms with being gay, it was pretty much all Chloe thought about. But eventually Chloe got over it. She met some girls, had some fun, smoked a lot of weed. Max was old news. A million different things could have happened if Chloe had stayed in Arcadia Bay. Getting together with Max was never even in the cards.

But now that she knew Max was bi, now that Max had almost fucking _kissed her,_ Chloe just didn't know anymore.

Chloe swallowed. _Take a chance, Price. Actually do something right for once in your sad life._

She used her rewind. Do or die, right? Sink or swim. Preferably swim, but probably sink.

Max backed away from the hi-fi and turned around. Everything played out the exact same way it went before. Word for word, action for action. Chloe gave the exact same replies she had the first time. Chloe needed to keep this consistent.

Max cupped her hands around Chloe's face. Pulled her closer, closing the gap. But this time Chloe didn't back away. This didn't feel wrong anymore. It didn't feel like something that was going to ruin their friendship. A little too late for that. But this was new. This was exciting. This was something they both wanted. And when Max kissed her, it tasted like new beginnings.

Chloe stepped back, her head spinning like a typhoon. _Holy fuck._ She expected a little peck. Something light. But Max really went for it. No trace of the old Max who blushed whenever Chloe even mentioned kissing. But Max was also nothing like that girl in Seattle. That girl in Seattle had been all swagger, the kind of girl who never wanted or needed anything long-term. The kind of girl who drove almost every young lesbian wild. But Max’s lips were soft and her confidence wasn’t just an act. The kiss was everything Chloe had wanted from her first lesbian relationship, all the things she never got because that girl in Seattle wasn’t Max Caulfield.

"Whoa," said Chloe. "You're hardcore, Max. Better text Mikey and tell him I'm officially taken."

The awkwardness of the situation had already hit both of them. Chloe was pretty sure they were both happy, but it was still kind of embarrassing. That sudden jump from maybe-flirting to almost full-on making out in Max's bedroom. And now the uncertainty, both of them wondering if this was really a step they wanted to take. But Chloe wasn't rewinding this one. She felt pretty secure in this timeline.

Max quickly headed over the closet, refusing to make eye contact with Chloe. She yanked open the closet door.

"You can head downstairs if you want," she said. "I'm sure my mom can't wait to see you. Free breakfast."

Chloe blinked. So a few things didn't change. _Interesting._ From a scientific perspective, that made perfect sense. Everything Chloe knew about time travel suggested the flexibility of outcomes. How many things--small and large--had changed after Chloe saved Max in the bathroom? Chloe really needed to draw up a chart or something.

She went downstairs. Way too awkward in Max's bedroom. Hopefully they would both feel better after some time apart.

* * *

Vanessa Caulfield was making waffles. She poured some batter into the old waffle iron and shut it. Chloe recognized that waffle iron. It was the exact same one the Caulfields had the last time she visited. There was a fresh plate of bacon on the counter next to the waffle maker.

Vanessa turned and smiled at Chloe. She looked almost exactly the same, except maybe a little older. Her face had more lines than Chloe remembered. Vanessa's smile didn't quite reach her eyes.

"Chloe," Vanessa said. "It's so good to see you."

Her gaze flickered to Chloe's shirt.

"I see you changed your style," Vanessa said.

Chloe folded her arms and leaned against the doorway.

"Nah," Chloe said. "Just trying something new."

Vanessa turned back to the counter.

"Well, it suits you," she said.

Chloe nervously flexed her fingers. What was she supposed to say? She was sorry about Ryan? She was sorry for leaving? She finally had Max's back after years of no contact? Vanessa had to know Chloe felt like complete shit. She had to know it wasn't Chloe's choice to leave. But it _was_ Chloe's choice to stop texting and calling.

"You, um, need any help?" said Chloe.

Shaking her head, Vanessa headed over to the fridge. She opened it and pulled out a carton of orange juice.

"I'm fine," said Vanessa. "David usually helps me."

Chloe attempted to picture David in an apron. She could actually imagine him frying up bacon in the kitchen, but not with Vanessa and Max. The idea of them being a nice happy family almost made Chloe laugh. Chloe felt so bad for Max. She couldn't imagine having to pretend she was okay with that prick just to keep the peace.

"Where _is_ David?" said Chloe.

Vanessa shrugged, the carton of orange juice in one hand. She went over to the cupboard and started pulling out glasses.

"Work emergency," she said. "Something about a break-in?"

Chloe's heart almost stopped. _Fuck._ How did they know already? And more importantly, how much did David know? Was David enough of an asshole to bust his step-daughter? Probably not, but Chloe was definitely screwed. If David figured out they'd both been there, Chloe's scholarship was dead.

"They hope it was just kids, but you can never be too careful," said Vanessa.

She shook her head, pouring out two glasses of orange juice.

"I'm so glad Max dropped out," said Vanessa. "I just don't know about that place anymore. You know what I mean?"

Chloe chewed her bottom lip. If only Vanessa knew the truth. But even from the outside, Blackwell wasn't looking too prestigious. An attempted suicide _and_ a break-in? This was the end of Blackwell’s good reputation. Destroyed in less than two days. That had to be a record.

"Yeah," said Chloe.

Vanessa checked the clock.

"I'd better get to work," she said.

She popped open the waffle iron and tossed the slightly burnt waffles onto a plate.

Chloe didn't ask if Vanessa still worked at that law firm in the next town. Some things didn't change. At the very least, Vanessa was probably due a thousand promotions. Although from what Chloe knew, Vanessa was pretty chill with being a receptionist.

Vanessa walked into the living room and grabbed her purse.

"Seems like an age since you and Max left your mark," she said.

Adjusting the strap of her purse, she gestured towards the fireplace. The butterfly—some graffiti from what felt like decades ago—was still there. A remnant from a day Chloe vividly remembered.

"Well, I have to go," Vanessa said. "Have a good day."

She gave Chloe a hug before she left. One of those bone-crushing bear hugs that Chloe would have expected from Ryan Caulfield. Chloe never had the heart to tell Ryan that she didn't like having her spine shattered every time she came over.

Vanessa left, leaving an amazing breakfast and a very nostalgic Chloe.

Chloe snatched a waffle from the plate and took a bite. _Holy crap._ Her and Max used to love making waffles with Ryan. Made the batter from scratch and everything. Blueberry used to be Chloe's favorite.

She frowned, swallowing a mouthful of plain waffle. But then everything changed and suddenly Chloe couldn't eat blueberry waffles without gagging. They reminded her way too much of that day. _That's why you gotta make new memories, Price. Like kissing Max. That was a good memory, right?_

She walked over to the fireplace, the waffle still in her hand. Yeah, that _was_ a good memory. Scary, but good. And way better than making blueberry waffles, if there was even a competition.

Chloe knelt down in front of the fireplace. She ran her hand over the graffiti. _Fuck._ She remembered that. She remembered young Chloe with her strawberry blonde hair--that's what Max called it because Max was such a dork—drawing that butterfly with her marker while Ryan and Max laughed in the kitchen.

Chloe's fingers twitched. _Shit._ Did Vanessa look at that every day and think about her dead husband? Did Max break down crying? Why was it even still there? Was it Max and Vanessa's subtle way of trying to keep that day--the good parts--alive?

Max finally came downstairs.

"Hey," she said. "You look sexy as hell in my clothes."

Chloe blushed and straightened up.

"Down, girl," she said. "You get one kiss and suddenly you're Ms. Casanova? Bad Max. Bad."

Max playfully swatted at Chloe's arm. She didn't say anything about the fireplace.

"Like I wasn't all over you before," she said. "I can't help myself. We artists love our tortured subjects."

Chloe let out a small laugh. So this was what they were doing? Fine with her. Eventually they needed to talk and stuff, but for now? Things didn't have to change. Not yet.

"Gee, thanks," said Chloe.

She tossed the remaining waffles onto a plate, along with some of the bacon. She popped the plate into the microwave for a quick reheat. While the food was spinning in there, Chloe helped herself to the remainder of the coffee Vanessa left behind. Chloe wasn't a coffee addict--yet--but she really needed that boost.

"Nice breakfast,” said Max.

Chloe was dumping sugar and milk into her mug of coffee. She couldn't even picture the kind the sociopath who had their coffee straight. Except maybe Nathan's dad, who was very possibly a sociopath.

She’d almost forgotten that Max went full vegetarian while she was gone. David probably hated that. The guy definitely had a meat fetish. Not that Chloe could blame him. Bacon was awesome and it sucked that she couldn’t share it with her bestie anymore.

Max poured herself a glass of orange juice.

Chloe yanked her plate of breakfast out of the microwave. Chloe grabbed the bottle of maple syrup and started dousing the waffles.

The front door opened. For a second, Chloe thought Vanessa forgot something. She started to call out, but the voice stopped her.

David shouted from the hallway. He sounded tired, like he'd been up all night. Chloe had the tiniest pang of sympathy before she remembered who she was dealing with. If anyone deserved late nights, it was David fucking Madsen.

"Do I smell bacon?" he said.

Chloe started to tell the prick that there wasn't any bacon left, but Max gave her a look. Chloe reluctantly shut her mouth. She knew Max was being sensible. They couldn't afford for David to be pissed at them.

"Uh, yeah," said Max. "Mom made breakfast."

She glanced at Chloe.

"And my, um, friend is here," said Max. "Chloe. Chloe is here."

She stepped away from Chloe, like she was afraid the proximity might piss off David.

Chloe felt a single throb of anger in her chest, but it wasn't directed at Max. As David walked into the living room, Chloe could almost feel the animosity rolling off of him. He wasn't happy she was there. Well, they finally had something in common.

David narrowed his eyes at Chloe and folded his arms.

"You two have a little sleepover?" he said.

Chloe bit her lip. _"Oh, we did a lot more than sleep, asshole."_ That was what she wanted to say. Chloe just wanted to see the look on his stupid face when she admitted she'd smooched the hell out of his step-daughter. But this wasn't the time to start shit with David.

"Yeah," said Max. "Chloe, um, wanted to stay over. Just like old times."

Chloe couldn't keep the snark out of her voice.

"Yeah, David," she said. "Just like old times."

Max jumped in before the verbal smackdown could start.

"What are you doing home?" she said.

David sat down at the table.

"Some little shits broke into the campus," he said. "This is what happens at these bullshit liberal schools. You get a bunch of entitled students who think they can do whatever they want."

Chloe swallowed another snarky reply: _"Yeah, unlike the security guard who just thinks he's entitled to spy on everyone and harass students?"_

Max pretended to be busy with the waffle iron, her back to David. Judging by the look on her face, she was way too queasy to actually eat anything.

"Did you, um, catch who did it?" said Max.

David shook his head.

"No leads," he said. "But don't worry. I'm gonna bust those punks. No one hides from me. No one."

Chloe couldn't help herself. She actually laughed. So much was right under David's stupid pornstache.

David turned to face Chloe, his brow furrowed in anger.

"And what exactly is so funny, missy?" he said. "Do you know something about this?"

Chloe laughed again. How could David be so thick? But then again, he didn't have powers. It was the best kind of irony. David really had no clue what was actually happening.

"More than you," said Chloe.

David laughed.

"You kids always think you know everything," he said.

Chloe stopped herself from laughing again. She was afraid that she might actually pass out from laughing too hard. Chloe had just realized that she was David's nightmare: a kid who _did_ know more than him. _Holy shit._ If David knew even half the stuff Chloe and Max did, he would have crapped his pants.

"What, and you do?" said Chloe. "What the fuck do you even do, David? Bully people? Spy on students with your stupid cameras? Terrorize your step-daughter?"

Max was standing by the counter, refusing to get involved.

David got to his feet. For a split second, Chloe was actually intimidated. David was taller than her and a thousand times more threatening. If he wanted to, he could have snapped her in half like a twig. In any sane world, Chloe should have been worried about her safety. But in a world where Chloe could literally control space and time, David was like a toddler throwing a tantrum.

"You are _way_ out of line, young lady," said David.

Chloe stepped towards him. She really wanted to kick him in the balls. If she was lucky, he might give her an excuse to rip that dumb pornstache right off his face. And then Chloe could rewind and do it again.

"I'm out of line?" said Chloe. _"Me?_ I'm not the one who harassed Samantha when she was going through hell."

David's face twitched, like he was fighting with himself. Was that remorse? Genuine guilt in his eyes? Only for a split second. Long enough for Chloe to consider backing off.

"You have no idea what you're talking about," said David. "Samantha..."

Chloe interrupted him.

"Samantha is in the hospital because of you," said Chloe. "You could have helped her. You could have--you could have _said_ something or _done_ something. You knew she was upset over that video. You knew she was hurting. But instead you decided to fucking bully her? Suck a fuck, David.”

She clenched her fists. This wasn't about David. Well, it was. But it wasn't _just_ about him. He wasn't the only one at fault here. But it felt so nice to scream at him.

David took a step towards Chloe.

"I do _not_ need this kind of insubordination," he said. "Especially from some punk kid."

He pointed at the door, his eyes flashing with rage.

"Get the hell out of my house," he said.

Chloe headed towards the door. She wanted to stay and shout at David a little more, but what was the point? He wasn't going to accept responsibility for what happened to Samantha. No one was. No one wanted to admit it was their fault. They all wanted to blame the video or the Vortex Club or anyone and everything else. Such bullshit.

"Max, you coming?" Chloe said.

Chloe was relieved when Max actually followed her. She was pissed that Max hadn't stuck up for her, but she understood why. David was such a scary asshole. Better to stay on his good side if you didn't have freaky time powers.

Chloe glanced at David. Should she rewind and stop herself from starting shit? Give herself the chance to leave on slightly good terms with David? It would probably help them in the long run.

She shook her head. _Screw. That._ David started it. He was such a smug piece of shit. He didn't deserve her rewind. So what if he busted them? David was probably going to do that even if Chloe didn't go off on him.

Chloe needed to visit Samantha in the hospital. She had a dozen apologies to make.


	4. Frank's RV

Chloe sensed Max was mad at her. She didn't need mind reading powers to tell that Max wasn't exactly thrilled with how their little interaction with David went. They’d been in the truck for a good several minutes and Max still hadn't said anything.

"I'm sorry," said Chloe. "I'm sorry, okay? I--he just makes me so mad."

She wasn't apologizing for what she said to David. Chloe meant every word of it. But she felt bad about forcing Max into such an awkward situation. David wasn't going to let this go.

"I get it," said Max. "But you can't just _go off_ on people, Chloe. If David figures out what's going on..."

Chloe snorted and rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, I'm sure David's totally going to find out I'm a fucking superhero," she said.

Max swallowed.

"That's not what I mean," she said. "If he finds out we're looking into Rachel Amber..."

Chloe frowned.

"Wait, you think he had something to do with it?" she said. "For real, Maximus?"

Max chewed her bottom lip, staring straight out the windshield.

"Maybe?" she said. "David's--he's complicated. I know he's paranoid, but this is--this is weird even for him. I think he might have some ideas."

Chloe rolled that over in her head a few times. Okay, so David probably wasn't directly involved with Rachel's death. But maybe he had a theory about who _was_ involved? There was one upside to David's surveillance fetish: he probably had dirt on everyone at Blackwell. But if David knew who'd kidnapped Rachel, why hadn't he told the cops? Was it someone at Blackwell? Someone close who might retaliate if David spoke to anyone? Like, for example, a _Prescott?_

"Hey, does David have any super secret files?" said Chloe.

Max answered immediately.

"Yeah, but I've never seen them," she said. "He keeps them in the garage. Padlocked. I could probably figure out the combination, but..."

Chloe interrupted. She hated to be _that_ person, but they were kind of on a time crunch.

"Awesome," she said. "We need those files, Mad Max."

Max hesitated for a minute, but eventually she nodded. If Chloe got anywhere near David's stash, he'd probably flay her alive. If David _was_ involved in Rachel's death, his trust in Max was totally going to bite him in the ass. It was almost poetic.

"So where are we going?" said Max. "Back to Blackwell?"

Thinking about her class schedule, Chloe rolled her eyes. As much as she would have loved filling her brain with useless knowledge, her and Max's mission was a little more important than school. Especially if Arcadia Bay was getting destroyed at the end of the week. Who gave a fuck about classes?

"You're in charge," said Chloe. "Who did Rachel hang out with? Anyone skeevy?"

Max gripped the steering wheel a little harder.

"Um, Damon and Frank?" she said. "I--I guess we could check out Frank's RV. If anyone has dirt on Rachel, it's probably him. They spent a lot of time together."

Chloe glanced at Max. Max had at least acted like she was cool with Rachel banging whoever, but Chloe heard that tiny pang of jealousy in Max's voice. For some reason, Frank was special. Chloe couldn't imagine why.

"Great," said Chloe. "Snooping through a drug dealer's RV. What could possibly go wrong?"

Her joke didn't seem to land. Max kept staring straight ahead without saying anything.

* * *

The hard part was going to be getting the keys. Chloe didn't even realize how tough it was going to be until they pulled into the Two Whales diner parking lot.

What were the chances Frank might hand off the keys to Max if she asked nicely? Less than zero. Max still owed Damon money and Frank was probably angry about that. Even Frank wasn’t stupid enough to get on Damon’s bad side.

"So how are we gonna do this?" said Max.

A plan was already forming in Chloe's head, but she wasn't sure it was going to work. Her powers had already failed once. What if they stopped working again at the worst possible time?

"Leave it to me," said Chloe.

She grabbed the passenger side door handle.

"You stay out here," she said. "We might need a quick getaway."

Chloe somewhat regretted not inviting Steph and Mikey. That would have required at least an hour of explanation and another lengthy demonstration of her powers, but at least they would have had a getaway driver. Chloe would have felt way more confident going in with Max to back her up.

On her way into the Two Whales, she noticed all the dead birds in the parking lot. They were everywhere. Chloe shuddered, both sickened and weirdly fascinated. That had to be a bad omen, right? Dead birds were never a good sign. Just how badly was Chloe screwing up with her time powers for Arcadia Bay to react like this? Or did this somehow have nothing to do with Chloe messing with space and time? Unlikely. _Chaos theory, Price. Chaos theory._

_She nudged a dead bird with her foot. Chloe was no animal expert, but she was pretty sure this was the opposite of normal. Chloe hadn’t even seen it happening. Chloe felt bad for those poor birds. If this really was because of her time powers, Chloe owed their cute little bird families a huge apology._

_Every action had a reaction. That was just a basic rule of science. Chloe’s_ _action_ _was saving Max’s life. And the_ _reaction_ _was...dead birds? How did that make any sense? Chloe kept saying “chaos theory” like it explained everything, but it actually explained very little. Yeah, crazy shit happened because it could. But this was a little outside the range for just “crazy shit”. This felt like Arcadia Bay was trying to give her a message, like the town was somehow alive and breathing. And it wasn’t like all of this was isolated to Arcadia Bay. There were tons of news outlets speculating about that freak snow and eclipse._

She pushed the door open and walked into the Two Whales. No dead birds in there. Just a bunch of truckers and some Blackwell students pigging out. Chloe smelled bacon and her stomach rumbled. She was already hungry again.

Chloe looked around. _Focus, Price. Focus._ Chloe pretended she was Max. Looking through a camera lens, taking little mind snapshots of everything and everyone she saw.

Frank was sitting at a booth by the window. He looked even less showered than normal, but Chloe instantly recognized him. He seemed to be eating a huge plate of beans and drinking soda. He hadn't seen her yet. Too absorbed in his meal.

Chloe glimpsed a police officer sitting at the counter. Two truckers she didn't know were sharing a booth by the door. There were a few random people Chloe slightly recognized from wandering around Arcadia Bay.

And was that _Nathan?_ Chloe didn't get too close, but she noticed him sitting by himself. That was kind of weird. Since when did Nathan do anything alone? Except maybe harass people for calling him out? Nathan was usually surrounded by a crowd of ass-kissers. Had the other members of the Vortex Club finally decided they were done with his spoiled rich kid act?

Chloe forgot about Frank for a moment. Nathan knew stuff about Rachel. He had to. What if Nathan, Frank, _and_ David were in on this?

Chloe approached Nathan's table.

Nathan jerked his head up. He looked more twitchy than usual, like he was hopped up on something really bad. Having studied drugs and their various effects for a science project, Chloe was willing to bet that Nathan was stoned out of his fucking mind. Based on his behavior, he must have been medicating way more than usual. But why?

"The fuck do you want, dyke?" said Nathan.

Chloe resisted the urge to break Nathan's nose. She totally could have gotten away with it, but why waste her rewind on this guy? He had answers, Chloe had questions.

"Where's your posse, Prescott?" said Chloe.

Nathan snorted.

"I don't have a posse," he said. "Unlike you, I'm not some loser who dresses like a fucking whore."

Chloe clenched her teeth. _It's for Max, it's for Max, it's for Max._

"So what do you want?" said Nathan. "Spreading more bullshit rumors about me, bitch? Just fucking try it. I'll sue you for libel."

Chloe rolled her eyes. It was amazing how Nathan was basically a younger drugged-up version of his dad. Like father, like son. Clearly Sean Prescott had cracked the secret formula for raising a messed up kid.

"Love to see you try," said Chloe. "What are you even doing here, Nathan? Tired of getting your dick sucked at Blackwell?"

Nathan folded his hands on the table. Or at least he _tried_ to fold his hands. They were shaking so badly that he ended up just laying them flat on the tabletop. He wasn't making eye contact with Chloe. Nathan alternated between glancing out the window and looking at the table.

Chloe stared at him. Seriously, what was Nathan's problem? She kept jumping between feeling bad for him and remembering that he was a piece of shit. Nathan had always been psycho, but now he was all over the place. Something was wrong. And it wasn't just the drugs.

"Dude, are you okay?" said Chloe.

She was legitimately asking.

Nathan finally looked at her. He was trying to look all tough and pissed, but Chloe wasn't buying it. The guy was clearly messed up about something. Messed up and trying to hide it behind this sad attempt at intimidation. Chloe wanted to believe he was feeling guilty about Samantha's almost-suicide, but she had a feeling it wasn't just that.

"Like you care," said Nathan. "Get off my crack, whore."

The weird thing was that Chloe _did_ care. She cared because now she was a hundred percent sure that Nathan knew something about Rachel. Nathan was part of all this.

"If this is about Rachel, you need to tell me," said Chloe.

Nathan shook his head.

"Why the fuck do you care about Rachel?" he said. "Worry about yourself, Price."

His fingers seemed to convulse. _Action and reaction._ Every part of Nathan’s body was _reacting_ to something. Something Chloe didn’t know about.

"There's a storm coming," he said.

Chloe's blood froze in her veins.

"What did you say?" she said.

But Nathan shook his head at her, clasping his hands together and staring at the tabletop. If he had something more insightful to say, he'd decided to clam up. Classic Prescott.

Chloe could tell the conversation was over, even though she had a million questions. And none of those questions were about Rachel. In fact, Rachel was literally the last thing on Chloe's mind.

Okay, so Nathan was clearly fucking possessed or something. Chloe didn’t really believe in ghosts or demons, but why not just throw that in with all the time travel, weird future visions, and destiny? Whatever was going on with Nathan, it was _not normal_. This wasn’t just a stuck-up rich kid on drugs. This was serious shit. Nathan really needed to talk to someone. Or maybe douse himself in holy water?

But Chloe couldn’t give a crap about Nathan right now. This was about Rachel. This was about Max. Nathan could have his little breakdown.

_“There’s a storm coming.”_

Chloe chewed her lip. _Crap_. Chloe couldn’t think about that now. She had more important stuff to worry about. Like breaking into a creepy drug dealer’s RV. That actually sounded way less dangerous than trying to squeeze Nathan Prescott for information when he was freaking out.

She walked over to Frank’s table. Time for the old Chloe Price charm.

“Hey dumbass,” she said.

Frank jerked his head up. He looked a lot less intimidating with a mouthful of beans. Chloe was glad she’d never crossed paths with Arcadia Bay’s resident creep. All things considered, Chloe kind of liked having all her fingers and toes.

“The fuck are you?” he said.

Chloe glanced over her shoulder. She doubted the cop at the counter was listening in, but you could never be too careful.

“Uh, I’m Justin’s...friend,” said Chloe.

Frank dropped his attention back to his plate, digging his fork into the mess of beans. A meal fit for a king.

“Ain’t dealing right now, kid,” he said. “Get lost.”

Chloe put her hand on the table. She hoped Frank would look at her, but he just kept shoveling beans into his face. It was like he was in a trance. A bean trance.

“I’m not here to, uh, deal,” said Chloe. “It’s—it’s about...money. Someone who owes you money. Uh, I think about three grand?”

Frank chuckled.

“Three fucking grand?” he said. “Anyone who owes me that much is dead, kid.”

Chloe swallowed. _Dead, huh? Like Rachel?_ Chloe dug her fingers into her wrist, physically preventing herself from saying the one thing that would have probably made Frank jump out of his chair and stab her right there. It was never a good idea to accuse a drug dealer of murder. And Chloe couldn’t use her instant replay if Frank killed her in a violent rage.

“Dude, I know someone owes you major cash,” said Chloe. “So we hit up your RV, I toss you the bills, we’re cool. All of us.”

Frank laughed again.

“Not gonna happen,” he said. “Get lost.”

Chloe slammed her fist on the table, her anger spiking. She suddenly didn’t give a crap how Max would have handled this. Max was all talk, no action. Chloe was perfectly fine being both because that was what made her a badass.

“Just let me into your stupid RV,” she said. “I—I wanna get high, okay? Its been an insane week and I need something to take the edge off. Cool? I’ll—I’ll do whatever you want.”

Frank reached into his pocket and pulled out the keys, a shit-eating grin on his face. He waved them in the air, laughing as Chloe’s eyes followed them. She must have looked like a baby getting distracted by something shiny.

“Nice try,” said Frank. “I know you don’t have any money, girl. Trust me, you’re not my type. No handouts. You pay for your shit just like everyone else.”

Chloe rolled her eyes. Gross. What the heck did a bombshell like Rachel Amber ever see in this guy? Chloe had been talking to him for less than ten minutes and she already wanted to bail on the conversation. At least with Nathan Prescott and Mark Jefferson, Chloe could sort of see it if she squinted. But _Frank_?

Chloe moved so fast she even surprised herself. She darted forward and snatched the keys right out of Frank’s filthy hand. She felt a surge of energy as she moved, her heart pumping pure adrenaline into her veins. Screw being subtle. Screw patience. Chloe didn’t have time to play nice with assholes.

“Mine now, fucker,” she said.

Frank jumped out of his chair, his face twisted with rage. Frank wasn’t an idiot, but Chloe doubted he had the self-control to stop himself from grabbing a teenage girl in the middle of a semi-crowded diner.

Wearing her own shit-eating grin, Chloe slipped the keys into her pocket. She paused for a few seconds before she rewound. She wanted to get a good look at Frank’s face. Did Frank even know how dumb he looked? Did Frank Bowers think he was some kind of badass towering over some tiny girl? Well, he wasn’t. Not as long as Chloe had the power.

She patted her pocket. Keys were still there. Just in case Chloe needed more confirmation that anything she had on her was immune to the rewind. And of course Frank was noshing on his beans, oblivious to the fact that his keys weren’t in his pocket anymore. That was some real space-time fuckery.

Chloe walked away without saying anything. Frank probably hadn’t even seen her.

  
  


  
  


Max was waiting by the RV.

“You got it?” she said.

Chloe held the keys over her head and shook them. They had maybe fifteen or thirty minutes until Frank left the diner, but Chloe couldn’t resist showing off. Once again, this power was awesome.

“Chloe the Keymaster,” said Max.

Chloe tapped on the door with her knuckles. Of course no one was in there, except maybe some burned-out junkie crashing after Frank gave them one too many. Now that Chloe pictured it, that actually sounded more terrifying than Damon or Frank. Chloe really hoped those noises inside were coming from Frank’s dog and not a person.

“What about the dog?” she said.

Max took the keys from Chloe and jammed them into the lock.

“Pompidou knows me,” said Max. “He’s cool.”

Chloe snorted. She’d seen Frank’s dog a handful of times. Chloe couldn’t imagine where Frank got a dog. Or why Frank got a dog.

“Pompidou?” she said. “That’s, uh, very badass.”

Max rolled her eyes as she twisted the key in the lock. The door opened and Max visibly braced herself.

Pompidou came lunging out of the RV, his teeth bared. He looked like he was ready to chow down on some poor intruder’s legs. But the second he noticed it was Max, his entire demeanor changed. He stopped barking and he dipped his head, his tail wagging.

Max bent over and patted Pompidou’s head.

“Hey, buddy,” she said. “Sorry I didn’t visit. I’m the worst.”

Chloe laughed. She had to admit, Pompidou was a cutie. Chloe never had a dog when she was a kid. Just a cute little kitty named Bongo that got hit by a car. Chloe’s heart hadn’t recovered enough for her to even consider getting a new pet.

“Wow,” she said. “First you kiss me and now you’re all over Frank’s dog? Such a player.”

Max straightened up.

“You’re one to talk,” said Max.

They walked into the RV, letting the door swing shut behind them.

Chloe wrinkled her nose. _Ugh_. What the fuck was that smell? Chloe wasn’t expecting lavender-scented candles, but she at least predicted something more tolerable. It was a disgusting mix of body odor and something else. Something Chloe could almost taste. Chloe nearly gagged.

Frank’s RV was a total mess. Beer bottles all over the floor, open pizza boxes, unidentifiable stains. Truly a castle fit for a drug dealer and his mutt. Anyone else would have dropped dead from the smell.

“Yeah, it’s gross,” said Max.

She sat down and opened up Frank’s laptop. Of course Frank hadn’t changed his password in probably ten years. Not that Max would have needed god-tier hacking skills to figure it out.

Chloe opened a cupboard over the sink. It was full of beans. So many beans. Frank must have been farting constantly. Chloe didn’t even want to think about what an all-bean diet did to someone’s bowels. One particularly gross research project had taught her way too much about ass biology. Fascinating, but really gross.

“So, uh, how much time did you spend at Frank’s crib, Mad Max?” said Chloe.

She shut the cupboard and started snooping through the shelves. So Frank wasn’t just a bean guy. His diet also included sugary cereal. Good to know.

Max rolled her eyes, tapping away on Frank’s laptop. She seemed to know exactly what she was looking for.

“Gross,” she said. “It wasn’t like that. We were—we knew each other, okay? Because Rachel.”

Chloe snorted. Of course. Rachel. Why was it always Rachel? _Because you weren’t here, dumbass._

“So you were okay with Rachel banging Frank?” said Chloe.

Max was still snooping on Frank’s laptop. She hadn’t announced what she’d found, but Chloe was willing to bet there was a lot of disgusting crap on there. Chloe wondered how Max tolerated being buddies with that creep. Even with Rachel as a buffer, Chloe couldn’t see it.

“Rachel did what she wanted,” said Max.

Chloe pulled an opened box of cereal off the shelf.

“But were you _okay_ , Max?” said Chloe.

Max nodded, but she wasn’t smiling.

Chloe popped open the cereal box and poured herself a handful. As long as she didn’t mess with any of his beans, Chloe was probably in the clear. There was no way Frank was going to notice extra mess in his, well, mess.

She shoved a handful of cereal into her mouth and wandered into Frank’s bedroom. Chloe wanted to press, but she also didn’t want to. It was a weird situation: Chloe wanted to know every single detail of Rachel and Max’s relationship and she also never wanted to talk about it ever again. Why couldn’t they have their own thing completely separate from what Rachel and Max had? Why was Rachel haunting them? It wasn’t fair.

It was surreal. Even with all the power Chloe had, she couldn’t undo the worst decision she’d ever made. Chloe would have loved to spend her high school years hanging out with Rachel and Max in Arcadia Bay. Chloe could picture their dynamic.

Now where would a spooky drug dealer hide his shit? Chloe knew where she would have hidden her stuff if she was a creepy drug dealer. But what were the chances Frank was smarter than a high-schooler? Chloe’s first instinct was to grab a knife and slice open the mattress or check the nightstand for a hidden drawer. That was probably a little too advanced for someone as dumb as Frank Bowers. Vents seemed more like Frank’s go-to for stashing crap.

Chloe took a knife from the kitchen and pried open both vents. The first one was empty—and she had to rewind to cover her tracks—but the second one actually had something in it. Chloe pulled out a small leather book, some photographs, and a few torn notebook pages. _Jackpot! Mad skills, Price._

She opened the little leather book first. Chloe almost cheered when she saw the first page. _Fuck yes._ This was definitely Frank’s account book. It was encrypted, but Frank wasn’t exactly a genius. He’d actually named all of his clients after dog breeds. Chloe just needed the key. But that wasn’t the kind of sensitive information drug dealers just left lying around. Even Frank wasn’t that stupid.

Chloe shut her eyes and really put her brain to work. She had two options: she could either come up with some kind of elaborate plan to get the key from Frank or she could figure out the names herself. Chloe hated both of those plans. But if they were going to find Rachel, Chloe really needed to suck it up. Why even be scared at this point? She had The Power.

She unfolded the notebook pages and read through them. Chloe grimaced. She was really hoping for the key she needed for the account book. Or maybe some gross dirty fan fiction. Frank had to do something in his spare time, right? But Chloe knew what she was looking at immediately. She didn’t even need to recognize the handwriting. Love letters. Love letters from Rachel to Frank.

The letters were surprisingly vanilla. Chloe was expecting something way more graphic. But it was mostly about how much Rachel missed Frank and how much she loved him. No mention of Max. Honestly, it was kind of….sweet? At least it would have been if it hadn’t been letters between a teenage girl and a guy in his forties.

Chloe chewed her lip. _Fuck_. She thought Rachel was just banging Frank. That was bad enough, but this? This sounded serious. It sounded like Rachel and Frank were planning to run away together. Run away without telling Rachel’s parents or Damon or….Max. _Shit_. Should she even tell Max about this? Or was it better that Max never found out?

Chloe folded the letters. No, Max had to know what Rachel was planning to do. Max had to know what was going on between Frank and Rachel. Max deserved the truth, even if it ripped her heart in two. Chloe felt shitty about that, but if the roles had been reversed, she would have wanted to know.

The photos made Chloe feel physically ill. She wasn’t a prude, but she also felt gross looking at those shots of Rachel. Rachel apparently liked dancing in her underwear. The fact that Frank stashed those Rachel letters with those photographs said more than Chloe ever wanted to know about their relationship.

Chloe shoved the pictures back into the vent, her stomach churning. Chloe was beyond hoping Frank didn’t find out they’d been in there. But if Frank noticed his account book missing, they were screwed in a hundred ways.

Chloe snapped some photos of the pages with her phone. It took what felt like forever, but Chloe had all the time in the world. And it was better than Frank coming after them because they snagged his account book. Frank was probably itching for a reason to put his knife through Chloe’s skull. Or Damon Merrick.

She walked back into the main room.

Max looked up from the laptop. She didn’t look like she’d found anything useful. Frank’s Internet history was probably horrifying. Chloe hoped the creep didn’t have an entire folder of Rachel Amber pictures.

“Find anything?” said Max.

Chloe waved her phone. At least she had some good news?

“Account book,” she said. “Got the whole thing.”

She lowered her arm and shoved the phone into her pocket.

“I also found some, uh, pictures,” said Chloe. “Of Rachel.”

She swallowed. _Screw it_. Chloe had already committed herself to this. She couldn’t wuss out. Not with Max.

“I think Rachel and Frank were—were going to run away together,” said Chloe. “I found some letters and—Rachel was gonna leave, Max. She was going to leave you.”

Max blinked. Her expression didn’t tell Chloe anything. She was completely blank, like Chloe had just told her that it was going to rain tomorrow. Somehow that was worse than if Max had stood up and started throwing things. They went into this knowing it was going to be awkward. They just didn’t know how awkward until it was too late.

“We better jet,” said Max. “Don’t want Frank to—we can’t let him catch us.”

She stood up and practically sprinted to the door.

Chloe followed. There was no point in sticking around. They had everything they needed. More than everything. Fuck. Why couldn’t Chloe shut up for once? Why did she have to break Max’s heart like that? What the hell was wrong with her? _Nice one, Price. In Max’s life a whole three days and you’ve already ruined everything. Feel good about yourself?_

No, she didn’t. She didn’t feel good at all. And Chloe was starting to think she didn’t deserve it. Was she helping anyone? She definitely wasn’t helping Max.

Max left the keys on the ground in front of the door. If Frank got pissed about his missing keys, he’d—hopefully--assume he just dropped them. There was no need for him to realize he’d been outsmarted by two teenagers.

Chloe and Max hopped back into the truck and drove away.

Chloe swallowed. Was it her imagination, or was Max driving faster than normal? Max was leaning on the steering wheel, hunched forward and staring through the windshield with a blank expression on her face. Shit. Why couldn’t Max just scream and break stuff? Or cry? Or something? Chloe couldn’t deal if Max wasn’t giving her anything.

“Say something,” said Chloe.

She hoped prodding would flip Max’s rage switch. Chloe had always been the angry one, the one who had outbursts and tantrums over silly stuff. And Max was always the one who had to calm her down.

“What do you want, Chloe?” said Max. “It’s—it’s okay. I’m fine.”

Chloe threw up her hands in a gesture of frustration.

“No, you’re not,” said Chloe. “Jesus Christ, Max. Bitch lied right to your face. And it’s fine? Bullshit.”

Max glanced at Chloe. She was showing an actual human emotion. But it wasn’t anger or sadness. It was concern. Concern for Chloe.

“Why do you care?” said Max. “You didn’t even know her.”

Chloe folded her arms.

“So you’re just gonna roll over and take it?” said Chloe. “That’s such bullshit, Max.”

Max groaned. She was finally getting pissed, but not at Rachel. This reminded Chloe of those fights they used to have when they were kids. Except those fights usually ended with them hugging and making up within five minutes. Max never liked being mad and Chloe hated it when Max was pissed at her.

“Chloe, I’m not—I’m not rolling over and taking it,” said Max. “I-I know Rachel was messed up. I know she wasn’t a good person. But—I loved her. And I’m not gonna let Frank ruin that.”

Chloe slumped in her seat.

“You can’t forgive everyone,” said Chloe. “Everything can’t just be _fine_. There has to be someone you’re mad at.”

Max reached over and rubbed Chloe’s wrist.

“We can’t talk about this,” she said. “There’s a massive fucking storm coming.”

Chloe pulled her wrist away from Max. She liked Max’s touch, but she hated that this was where they’d landed. Everyone kept leaving Max. First her dad, then Rachel, and then...Chloe. Max couldn’t keep forgiving people forever. And despite what Max said, Max had to be in pain. No one could be okay with all of this.

This was larger than Max. Larger than Rachel or Frank or anything in Arcadia Bay. Larger than Chloe. And way too big for Chloe to fix with her rewind.

* * *

Max dropped Chloe off at Blackwell. Chloe wanted to go back to Max’s house and fix, well, everything. But that was going to take more than a conversation. And Chloe didn’t want to just abuse her rewind until she figured out what to say.

Chloe went back to her dorm. She turned on some music to help her think: “Rockerchick” by Lipstick Homicide. One of Chloe’s favorite songs. It was just loud enough to drown out some of Chloe’s thoughts so she could focus on the ones that mattered.

Life was like chemistry. It was about finding the right formula. But what formula could make Max happy? It was all about cause and effect: if Chloe could find the root cause—the part where someone fucked up—she could adjust the formula and try for a better outcome.

It all started when Max’s dad died. He was the heart and soul of Max’s world. If Ryan Caulfield hadn’t decided to pick up his wife from work, he would still be alive. And Max would have had someone who was there for her, someone other than Rachel Amber. Someone who wasn’t Chloe.

But Chloe’s powers couldn’t bring back the dead. It was the one thing she couldn’t do.

Chloe pulled out her graffiti journal. On the bright side, at least she had one memento from that day. She barely even remembered putting it there or why. And Max probably didn’t appreciate it. But at least it was something, right? Chloe had left her mark. Something to remind her of the last day Max was truly happy.

She opened her journal and flipped to one of the first pages. There it was: that cute little butterfly. The one Chloe had drawn on the fireplace. The one she’d put in her journal wasn’t exactly a carbon copy, but it was pretty close to the original. After all those years, it was still there.

Chloe ran her finger over it. It had dried a long time ago, but she imagined she could feel the wetness of the marker. For as long as Chloe could remember, she’d been the asshole who marked stuff. Her parents had tried—halfheartedly—to lecture it out of her, but Chloe couldn’t be stopped. She was an artist. The world would not be spared from Chloe’s one true artistic vision: chaos.

Something pulsed at the back of Chloe’s head as she touched the drawing. The world blurred for a split second, her vision tinting red. Chloe yanked her hand back like she’d been shocked. But that wasn’t what Chloe had felt. She’d felt something, but it wasn’t electricity. It was more like a throb of energy that raced from her fingernail to her arm and into her brain. It made the world fuzzy and the music faded.

She touched the drawing again. There was that pulse, except this time Chloe didn’t jump. She kept her finger on the drawing, tracing the butterfly’s wings. Butterfly. Chaos theory. Butterfly effect.

Chloe squinted at the drawing. She focused on it, trying to fall into the butterfly’s wings. It was crude. A child’s drawing. But the more Chloe stared at it, the more real it looked. She could almost see the wings flapping. Chloe traced it with her eyes, lifting her finger from the page and concentrating even harder. She traced every line of the butterfly’s wings. Chloe thought about the color until she could see it in her head. A beautiful blue butterfly.

Chloe pitched headfirst into the wings and landed on her ass. But it didn’t feel like falling. It felt like the world around her was falling and she was standing still. It felt like everything was spinning and burning like a photograph coming into focus. Chloe shut her eyes against the colors trying to burn off her retinas.

She opened her eyes and saw the fireplace. She saw her hand extended, the marker clutched in her hand as she scrawled the butterfly...the butterfly...the butterfly?

Chloe could hear people talking. She straightened up, blinking spots out of her eyes. What the hell? Where was she? What the crap was going on? This definitely wasn’t Blackwell. This was...Max’s house? Max’s fireplace? _What the fuck?_

Chloe raised her arms and looked down at herself. Now she realized why she felt so weird. Getting yanked out of her bedroom by some weird timey-wimey bullshit was enough. But something had happened to Chloe’s body. She was shorter, her hair was longer, and she was wearing that Arcadia Bay sweatshirt she hadn’t worn in years. This was so many shades of wrong.

She touched her face. Shit. It was bad enough the first time around. Now she was eighteen years old in the body of her young self? This had to be some kind of weird divine punishment. The universe was playing a cruel prank on her.

Chloe twisted a lock of hair around her finger and frowned. She hadn’t missed her long hair. The day she chopped it was the best day of her life. Her dad got super pissed at her about it, but Chloe did it anyway. Short hair was way better for science. Plus Chloe thought she looked cool.

Chloe spun around to face the kitchen, her thoughts suddenly on fire. Max. If she was back in time, then this had to be that day. The day everything changed. The day Max’s life turned into a shitshow.

Max and Ryan were in the kitchen. They were laughing as Max—young, dark-haired, her hair pulled back into that ponytail Chloe loved—whisked the waffle batter. Chloe remembered those waffles.

Chloe walked into the kitchen. She was afraid to be near Ryan. She was afraid that if she touched him, he might evaporate. This had to be a dream. There was no way Chloe had gone that far back in time with graffiti. But it wasn’t just graffiti. It was the butterfly. The butterfly wanted Chloe back there for some reason.

“…...the eggs,” Ryan was saying. “You can’t forget the eggs.”

Young Max rolled her eyes, but she looked super happy.

“I won’t forget the eggs, okay?” said Max. “Geez. I’ve done this before.”

Ryan gave Max a playful nudge, causing Max to laugh and roll her eyes again.

Chloe went through the events in her head: in about five minutes, Vanessa was going to call from work. She needed a ride home because something happened with her car. And Ryan was going to drop everything to pick her up. Max was going to ask if she could go with him, but Ryan would tell her he’d be back soon enough. They were going to pick up dinner from the diner on their way home. Max’s favorite. A special occasion because Max had aced a math test or something.

And then Ryan was going to get into a car accident and die. They’d never eat that dinner. And Chloe would be in Seattle before the funeral. She wouldn’t get to be there to grieve with Max. Unless Chloe changed it.

Chloe heard the phone ring. That had to be Vanessa. Vanessa calling to tell Ryan her car wouldn’t start and she needed a ride.

She looked around frantically. Talking to Ryan or Max was out of the question. They’d think she was bonkers if she started talking about time travel. So how did Chloe change the past? Did she just have to stop Ryan from taking his car or was there an extra step? How much did Chloe need to manipulate events before she created a new outcome?

Cause and effect. Cause and effect. _Cause and effect_. Every little thing Chloe did in the past had some effect on the future. Even her being there as her eighteen-year-old self was changing the past. But Chloe needed something that really made ripples. Ripples, but not waves. Ryan not dying was a big enough wave on its own.

But the timeline would always reset itself, right? Regardless of what Chloe did, the timeline would find a way to kill Ryan because that was how it had to happen. It already happened, so it had to happen again.

Fuck the timeline. Chloe had the power to change things and she was going to try. Even if this went wrong, she could always use the graffiti to go back and try again. Or at least Chloe hoped that was how it worked. If this was a one-time thing, she was screwed.

Chloe waited for Ryan to find his keys. Then she used her rewind to nab them herself. If Ryan couldn’t take his car, he couldn’t get into a car accident. Basic logic. Chloe was eliminating the largest factor in Ryan’s death.

She tossed the keys out into the yard. Better safe than sorry. If Chloe could, she would have dashed outside and buried those keys in the backyard so there was no chance Ryan would ever find them.

Her heart was pounding like crazy. _Slow down, Price. What the the hell are you doing?_ Changing Max’s fate was one thing. But this was going to change everything. In whatever reality Chloe ended up in, things were going to be different for her. And she might not be able to go back. Fuck. How many lives had Chloe changed by saving Max in the bathroom? How many fates had she altered with that one decision? How many people were going to die, be born, or get hurt because of what Chloe was doing?

Chloe only had a few minutes to ponder all of that. By the time her head stopped spinning, things were already happening.

“Guess I’ll take the bus,” Ryan was saying.

Chloe swallowed what she wanted to say, hanging back just in case she accidentally changed something else. She wanted to convince Ryan he shouldn’t leave the house. Vanessa could just grab a cab or something, right? Ryan could stay home with Max and hopefully not die. But Chloe didn’t say any of that because she was scared of what would happen if she did.

“Love you!” said Max.

Chloe’s stomach turned over. Fuck. Was she doing the right thing? Was she really saving anyone? It was so easy to think so as she watched Ryan smile and wave at his daughter, unaware that—in another timeline—Max was devastated and sobbing and desperately crying out for her best friend to be by her side.

“You’re staying, right?” said Ryan.

He was talking to Chloe, one hand on the front door. Ryan couldn’t feel the electricity in the air. Just like last time, he had no clue what was going to happen. But Chloe didn’t either, so they were both on the same track.

Chloe forced herself to smile.

“Where the hell would I go?” she said.

Ryan chuckled and winked at her. He’d always reminded Chloe of a younger Santa Claus. So jolly and full of life. And of course that magnificent beard.

“Language,” said Ryan.

He turned to Max and nodded.

“Keep an eye on this one,” he said.

Ryan opened the front door and walked out. Chloe caught one last glimpse of his flannel shirt before he crossed the threshold and shut the door. Max didn’t even say anything to him before he disappeared from the house, disappeared from her life. They—Chloe and Max—just took it for granted that he would come back. They were dumb tweens. Optimistic. It seemed incomprehensible that something might go wrong.

“You okay, Chloe?” said Max.

Chloe let out a breath she didn’t even know she’d been holding. Was she okay? Of course not. She had just done something that was potentially going to lead to a dozen other somethings. Chloe was pretty sure she’d ruined a life or multiple lives or even her own life. Or maybe she hadn’t changed a single thing and this was all bullshit. But if it was bullshit, why did her powers even let her do this? Why now? Chloe really could have used this when she was dealing with Samantha.

“Max,” said Chloe.

She rushed into the kitchen. Chloe reached to grab Max’s shoulders, but she stopped herself. She couldn’t freak Max out. Not now. Not so soon after Chloe had potentially fixed everything. Well, not everything. There was one more thing she needed to fix. And she could finally do it because she had time. Chloe understood consequences. She understood all the ways she’d messed up when she was just a dumb kid.

“I, uh, I’ve got something to tell you,” said Chloe.

She clasped Max’s hand in her own. This was pre-awakening Max. A Max who didn’t really know who she was yet. It was bizarre to think about the kind of person Max might turn into. Chloe knew so many things that Max would discover later in life. Chloe wished she could say all of them just to quiet Max’s brain. But that would have been a major spoiler. Max had to go on this journey herself.

“I’m moving,” said Chloe. “My dad’s—uh, he got a new job. In Seattle. And we’re all going there. In a few weeks.”

Chloe grimaced, remembering the time crunch. It had all been so short notice. The announcement, her mom telling her to start packing. And of course Chloe feeling like total shit for abandoning her best friend. But there wasn’t anything Chloe could do about that. At least she wasn’t being such a coward this time around.

Max deflated. She sagged against the counter, her shoulders slumping in defeat. She wasn’t surprised or anything. Just sad. But of course she wasn’t angry. Max never got angry at Chloe over things she had every right to get angry about. Chloe wished she could have been around to bring that out of her.

“Shit,” said Max. “That sucks. Why didn’t you tell me?”

Chloe bit her lip.

“Because I didn’t—I didn’t know how,” said Chloe. “We’ve been hanging out since—since we were seven. Trust me, Max. It wrecks me to bail on you like this. After—after everything that’s going to—everything that we’ve been through. But I promise I’m going to be good, okay? I’ll write every day.”

They hugged. They hugged longer and harder than they ever had before. They hugged like they were never going to see each other again. It felt so much warmer and more sincere than what was going to happen. Or what had happened. That quick hug at the airport, followed by a wave and a forced smile before Chloe ran to catch up with her parents.

“I’ll write,” said Chloe. “I’ll use that stupid stationary you like and everything.”

Max laughed, her face buried in Chloe’s shoulder.

“It’s not stupid,” said Max. “It’s artistic.”

Chloe withdrew from the hug and playfully swatted Max’s shoulder.

“Nerd,” said Chloe.

That was the last thing she said. Max’s laughter was still bouncing around Chloe’s head when the world imploded. Everything just collapsed in on itself like a dying star, sparks of red and yellow falling into a void. It sounded poetic, but it actually happened in a second. Chloe was barely able to grab onto herself before the world folded in around her. She was catapulted directly into the eye of the storm, the timeline shifting and resetting itself. Chloe’s rewind was clean. This felt like being pulled through a wind tunnel.

Chloe was seeing all the events—her own life—in fast motion, like someone hit a button on the VCR. It was like Chloe was jumping in and out of her own body at random periods in time, watching herself grow up at lightning speed.

She blinked a few times. It had been dark for so long that Chloe almost forgot she could see. In reality, zero time had passed. Chloe was still a little off balance from hurtling through a tunnel of memories and feeling the timeline changing around her.

She was sitting at a picnic table. Someone was saying her name over and over again. Everything was all echo-y and weird, like Chloe was listening to a shitty audio recording from inside a cave. She shook her head to get the gears turning at their regular speed. Everything inside of Chloe was moving at a crawl.

“Earth to Chloe,” said the voice.

Chloe squinted and rubbed her eyes.

“What?” she said.

She was trying to figure out if she’d actually gone back in time or if she’d tripped, hit her head, and just imagined everything. This was feeling way too much like something she’d done before. Probably because it was.

Steph and Mikey were sitting on opposite sides of the table. They had something set up. Some kind of tabletop role-playing game. Chloe thought she recognized some of the plastic figures. A strange thing to focus on considering that Chloe had literally jumped into a different timeline, but it gave Chloe something to think about that didn’t involve time travel.

“What’s with you?” said Steph.

Chloe rubbed her hair. Her familiar short hair. For a second, Chloe actually thought her hair was going to be long again. But of course it wasn’t. She’d cut it years ago and there was no way she was ever going back. And Chloe wasn’t in the kitchen with Max anymore, even though that felt like two minutes ago. She was sitting at a picnic table with Steph and Mikey.

“Uh, girl trouble,” said Chloe.

Steph and Mikey looked at each other. Steph’s eyebrows climbed her forehead, but she didn’t say anything.

Chloe suddenly remembered why she literally plunged face-first into a brand new reality. It definitely wasn’t so she could play Magic and Monsters with Steph and Mikey. As much as Chloe wanted to stick around and beat them in their nerd game, there was a huge Max-shaped hole in this story that desperately needed to be filled.

She jumped out of her seat, turned, and sprinted towards the parking lot. Was Max even still in Arcadia Bay? Did she live in the same house? No, there was no way the timeline was that different. Chloe was the one who left. Chloe was the one who fucked up. If that fundamental fact of life didn’t persist throughout millions of alternate universes, what was even the point?

Chloe ran past Brooke and Stella on her way to the parking lot. They both waved and smiled at her, but Chloe didn’t have enough time to think about that. She sprinted right past them, hitting the parking lot in record time.

Victoria Chase and Nathan Prescott were talking in the parking lot. As Chloe ran past, Nathan called out to her. He didn’t sound pissed off or threatening. He sounded like a regular guy calling out to someone he knew. Another thing Chloe didn’t have time to unpack. She didn’t even look at either of them. Max was her priority. Everyone else? No shits given.

Chloe raced down the sidewalk. She’d memorized the exact distance from Blackwell Academy to Max’s house. Chloe could have done this in her sleep. She had done this in her sleep. While she was in Seattle, Chloe had dreamed about hopping on a plane, flying all the way back to Arcadia Bay, and surprising Max at her house. They would have stayed up all night and talking about their lives and Chloe would have apologized for being such a bad friend. But it never happened like that in real life.

She arrived in front of Max’s house. Chloe half-expected it to not even be there. There had to be some way she screwed things up so badly that Max and her family were erased from existence. Massive decisions meant massive consequences. Chloe was never going to rule out the universe just wiping out everything Chloe cared about.

Chloe walked up to the front door. She’d never been this freaked out in her life. Nervous? Yeah, plenty of times. But Chloe had no reason to be this on edge about meeting her best friend again. Sure, it had been years. But Max was still Max. In every reality, Max Caulfield was always going to be Max Caulfield.

She knocked. Another fear rose inside of her: what if no one answered? What if something really had happened to the Caulfields? And Chloe couldn’t remember it because—in her mind—it hadn’t happened?

On Chloe’s second knock, the door opened. She jumped back, her heart slamming into her ribcage at ludicrous speed.

Ryan Caulfield was standing in the doorway. He still had the beard. Same jeans he’d been wearing the last time—or at least that was what it felt like in Chloe’s head—she’d seen him. Chloe could tell by the hole in the knee that Ryan had never gotten around to fixing. He was wearing a comfortable-looking green sweater vest and shirt combo that Chloe had never seen before.

She refused to believe it was him until he said something. His voice was as deep and gentle as Chloe remembered it.

“Chloe Price,” said Ryan. “Our returning champion. I’m guessing your heinous exile has finally come to an end?”

Chloe nodded. What could she possibly say? That she was so glad he was alive? That she was happy her insanely reckless plan had actually worked?

“Max can’t wait to see you,” said Ryan.

He turned and shouted into the house.

Chloe waited, biting her lip. Was she ready to see Max again? After all the stuff she’d done, Chloe just wasn’t sure. She thought she’d be alright with hopping into all of this. But she couldn’t shake this weird feeling, like she’d done something wrong. But this was still Max, right? It wasn’t like Chloe was meeting a stranger. Everything was going to be fine. They’d pick up right where they left off and it would be like none of it ever happened.

Max stepped out into the hallway. She was dressed in a pink sweater with a doe on the front and a pair of dark jeans. Her hair was longer. Medium-length, a few inches past Max’s ears. And she’d dyed it, or at least she’d dyed it a little. There were streaks of red through it, like little blood rivers.

But that wasn’t what Chloe noticed first. The first things Chloe noticed were the scars. And once she noticed, she couldn’t stop looking at them. Chloe traced them from Max’s forehead and under her shirt, from one side of Max’s face to the other. It was like looking at map. Every single one of Max’s features was a landmark.

“ _Max_ ,” Chloe breathed.

A smile—a beautiful radiant smile that somehow erased the imperfections—spread across Max’s face.

* * *

**Epilogue**

David sipped his coffee at the Two Whales Diner. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a beautiful professional-looking woman grabbing a nice to-go breakfast at the counter. David hunched over the table and smiled into his coffee. He could have his cute little fantasies, but that was all they were. What would a woman like that see in a sad broken man like him? David shook his head and chuckled.

Steph finished putting up another Rachel Amber poster. She chewed her lip, wondering if ten was too much for just around Blackwell. Later she was grabbing the bus with Mikey so they could head into town and put some up around the Two Whales Diner.

Mr. Jefferson slid the small black box into his pocket and smiled. He was staring out of the window in his classroom, watching the sun move across the sky.

Nathan was sitting on his bed, his hands over his face and his shoulders shaking. His phone buzzed and lit up, indicating that someone had messaged him. Nathan slowly dropped his hands from his face and turned to look at the phone.


End file.
